


In Photographs We Keep

by FiveMinutesToMidnight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, College AU, Keith has anxiety, Keith is adopted, Lance has depression, M/M, PTSD, Sex, mention of cigarettes, photographer lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveMinutesToMidnight/pseuds/FiveMinutesToMidnight
Summary: Keith is prone to act on his impulses. Chasing after some random guy out of a convenience store and asking for his number is probably at the top of his list.





	1. Limits

 

“So, tell me more about this Allura at your physical therapy group.” Keith says, unnecessarily tilting his whole body into the controller causing his Mario Kart character on the screen to turn a tight corner. He always goes with his main man Bowser despite how much he curses him out in the other games. Takashi smirks and shakes his head in disbelief, passing Toad as he does. At least he's not in last anymore. Keith lets an almost silent snicker slip, which gets him an amused glare from his opponent.

“There’s nothing to really say, Keith. I told you before, she’s just my trainer.”

“Just a trainer my ass. You mentioned her at least four times on the way home from the train station last night.”

Takashi sighs and Keith can’t tell if it’s from just being brutally beaten yet again or from his persistence on the topic. The older man waits to continue until he passes the finish line then drops the wii remote into his lap.

“You know what, enough about me,” he leans back stretching his arm out over the back of the couch and Keith can hear the teasing tone in his brother’s voice before it even comes, “how did things turn out with that Brian guy?”

Keith is inwardly groaning at the mention of his ex. Brian was nice he supposes but what he had in tattoos and brawns, he seriously lacked in personality and intelligence. The two of them couldn’t keep a conversation going to save their lives. The relationship was purely physical and not even that was all that great. He shakes his head and turns the television back to cable. “It didn’t. I broke up with him a few days before break started.”

“Oh,” is all Takashi says choosing not to delve deeper into the conversation. Which gives their mother the perfect opportunity to cut in as she enters the room.

“Keith, honey, could you run down to the corner store and grab some milk? I forgot to grab more this morning while I was out.”

“Sure thing mom.” She hands him the money and Keith throws his shoes on in the foyer before heading out.

Growing up Keith spent a lot of his time hanging around the corner store; it was the cool thing to do then. He may have also given into peer pressure once or twice and smoked a cigarette in the alley behind said store. Not one of his most graceful moments. The alley is also where he had his first kiss. Fourteen, a new family, a new town, and going through puberty had led him back there with the hottest guy on the middle school baseball team. Keith didn't even like being on the baseball team, but it helped get his aggression out and he had actually been pretty good at it. He played all through high school too.

The familiar chime of the bell above the stores door echoes as he steps in rubbing his hands over his arms to quick warm up. There isn’t any snow on the ground but it’s still cold out and the only thing protecting Keith from the chilly winds is his loose hoodie. The girl at the counter looks up from her phone for a second to make eye contact with Keith and then goes back to tapping the small screen. He shakes off a sudden chill and heads straight to the back. The fridge that lines the back wall starts with alcohol and ends with the dairy products and coffee creamers.

As he opens the door to grab what he has come for the bell up front rings again indicating another customer has arrived. The guy must be with someone because Keith can hear him chatting off about something. It isn't in a language he understands however. By the time he realizes this, said person is next to him and opening the same fridge he'd just closed. He’s holding a sleek black smart phone up to his ear making it obvious now that he’s alone. But that’s not really the first thing on Keith’s mind when he sees the stranger.

Everything feels like slow motion. The guy is taller than him, just by a few inches and has a sharp jaw line. His eyelashes are really long - so close he could count each one, his dark skin smooth and flush from the cold outside. Keith can smell his summery, citrus-like cologne as the man brushes against him. He clenches his teeth and swallows hard. _Holy shit_. Mr. McDreamy grabs what he’s looking for with a brief word into the phone then taps the screen to hang up. The device is dropped into his pocket as his cerulean blue eyes catch the smaller boy staring. Keith visibly tenses up and his breath hitches as soft lips pull into a gentle smile and then the man is gone. The guy was...definitely not Keith’s type but sure as shit undoubtedly attractive. His feet force him to the front of the store in anticipation. _Anticipation for what?_

He reaches the facade and then he sort of freezes in place. McDreamy is leaning over the aluminum counter face flirting it up with the cashier. She’s giggling and he’s smiling and Keith’s heart is beating faster and faster because this boy’s grin is _breathtaking_. Before he has the chance to commit the image to memory the brunette is leaving. Keith quickly pays for the milk and jogs out of the store to catch up. He’s not even sure what he’s doing or why he’s calling out to this gorgeous man.

The guy throws a glance over his shoulder at the sound and when he notices Keith trotting after him he stops with an eyebrow raised caution lacing his voice, “um...yes?

“Uh…” he didn't think this through, what is he suppose to say now? What the fuck is he even doing? “Do you um...you live around here?”

“Yeah...why?” He looks a little weirded out. Great.

“Oh, n-no reason, I just uh…” Yeah this was going real smoothly.

“Do you want something?”

 _Yeah, your number_. Keith sighed pulling his eyes up to meet the ones now staring very widely at him. What’s with him? It takes Keith all of about four seconds to realize he had spoken out loud.

Oh no.

Did he really just fucking say that? Fantastic, that's one way to get yourself shot. There is no reason for Keith to believe this guy is even remotely homosexual. He is such an idio-

“Okay.”

What. “R-really?”

“Yeah, why not.” He takes his hand out of his pocket and reaches out gesturing for Keith to hand his phone over. This seemed too easy. Was there a catch? Was he going to take his phone and run? Throw it out into the street? He is caught off guard when the boy in question lets out a breathy chuckle and smiles. “Do you want it or not?”

His heart lodges it’s self into his throat. That smile was gold. “Y-yeah, sorry.”

Keith pulls his phone out handing it off trying to hide a nervous smile. There is a brief moment of silence besides the car that passes by. Before the ravenette can say anything his phone is back in his hand and the attractive stranger has said goodbye and is crossing the street. Keith finds himself staring with his hand raised absent-mindedly.

* * *

The next few days fly by and Keith still hasn't contacted the mystery man. _Not so much a mystery anymore_ , Keith thinks as he stares tentatively at the contact information. Lance. No last name. Rolling onto his back he tosses his phone and runs his hands down his face. How should he even start this conversation? _Hey it's me that awkward guy from the convenience store wanna hook up sometime?_ Classic. A heavy groan leaves his lungs as he reaches for his phone to stare at the name once more.

 _Lance._  

* * *

Winter break ends without a hitch and Keith goes back to campus. He still hasn't built up the courage to text Lance. It had been driving him crazy all of break but every time he typed something up he chickened out and slammed on the backspace. By now it just seemed stupid and he figured if he texted him this late into the game it would just be weird. However, none of that stopped him from thinking about Lance. And today is no exception.

“Earth to Keith!” The sound of Pidge's voice bounces off her dorm walls and forces Keith back into his surroundings. Right. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother, honestly.”

“Sorry, Pidge. What were you saying?” He has to stop thinking about it so much. The girl in front of him shifts position in her seat at her desk to cross her leg underneath herself and sit on it.

“Mhm, sure you are. Anyway, Rebecca said there was something like a welcome back party at one of the frat houses tonight. Of course I could care less, however,” she gets her phone out and starts rapidly tapping on the screen with her thumbs like some speed demon.

“However?” His phone buzzes in his pocket. Did she just do that? He pulls it out to see she had in fact texted him what looks like an address.

“You’ve looked really down since we got back, I thought you might be interested.”

He recognizes the street from the address. That’s the Omega Blue fraternity. They were known to throw some pretty good parties and always had the best alcohol. Keith had been to one of those legendary events back in his first year. He doesn’t recall much just that he had the worst hangover of his life the next day. “Pidge...I'm not really a party kind of guy.”

“Shut up and just go.” She had a way with her voice and the way she raised her eyebrows to tell you she meant business and Keith isn't amused.

“I’ll stop in for like twenty minutes tops.”

“An hour and I'll buy you your usual from the cafe down the street in the morning.”

God damn her.

“ _Fine_.”

She gives her signature grin, the one she always wears when she gets her way, which was more often than not and went back to writing her paper.

 

What was he suppose to wear to a home coming party? He hasn’t been to a real party since freshman year. Keith groans at his reflection in the mirror. Ripped jeans, a random shirt he threw on and a heavy cardigan. It's not like it'll be a big deal what he wears right?

That was the understatement of the year. Keith looked like an old man compared to the other bodies in the room. The party is going strong already. It’s packed. And Keith is already regretting this. Okay, deep breathes.

Somehow he ends up in the kitchen and someone is patting his back and handing him a red solo cup. He is no stranger to beer. It just wasn't his favourite alcohol in the whole world. Whatever, bottoms up. 

An hour and a half later Keith is buzzed and ready to get the hell out of there. It isn't that he wasn't having a good time, he ran into people he knew and drank with them and talked or - whatever. Somewhere along the line he even ended up playing a game of beer pong set up in the backyard. Pidge was right, maybe he had needed to let loose a little bit. But he knows his limits. He fulfilled his promise to Pidge now time to ditch. Pushing through the crowd he nearly makes it to the door without incident. But he can't just leave however, not before slamming into someone's chest. A very tight, very warm chest that his hands are absolutely not groping. In all fairness the guy's hands were on his hips first. Firmly Keith might add. He can feel their heat seeping through his sweater. And this is what he means by limits. Alcohol made Keith very sensitive.

“Oops, you okay-” _huh_ , this voice sounds slightly familiar. He raises his head and the guy’s breath hitches, as does Keith's when their eyes meet. Oh. Oh _shit_. “Convenience store guy.”

Hands pressing to Lance's chest, Keith pushes back but keeps his poker face. Lance raises an eyebrow in interest, “You never contacted me.”

“I don't know what you mean.” Oh yeah just pretend he has the wrong person. Good one, Keith.

The man seems amused and ready to play. Keith can see it dance over his eyes. That can’t be a good sign. “You chased after me two weeks ago and asked for my number, remember?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Mhm, well” with Lance's hands still on Keith's hips, he spins him around and guides him back into the crowd.

“H-Hey, I was leaving!”

“Not anymore, Mr. Mullet Man,” the ravenette scoffs at the insult whilst trying to twist out of Lance's tight grasp, “you owe me a few drinks. Maybe that'll jog your memory a bit.”

Keith can hear the stupid smirk in his voice. This can't end well.

It feels like Lance is dragging him every which way, into one room then out the other, like some kind of house maze, until finally they make it to an empty hallway next to the stairs with beer in hand. Keith is gently pressed back into the wall, Lance's arm resting against it just above his mop of black hair. This douche canoe is in green joggers, a t-shirt and a backwards baseball cap. Wearing something like that, what the hell made him think he was so cool? Because he wasn’t. He just had a nice face. That’s really all he had going for him. And soft looking lips. And tight biceps, and warm hands, and an even warmer smile. But that’s it. Nothing special really.

“Like what you see?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes are practically undressing me,” he laughs lightly - it’s rhythmic.

Keith rolls his head against the wall averting his gaze, a smirk working its way hard onto his face. He takes a deep breath. Keep your cool. You’re cool. Cool.

“You think you’re a real hot shot, huh?”

Lance’s narrow eyes widen just the slightest in surprise but smiles nonetheless. “Maybe. Is that what scared you off?”

“You don’t scare me.”

He hums arching his brow and takes what looks like a thoughtful sip from his beer. Then he’s pushing up from the wall and lets the hand slide into his pants pocket, his stance completely lax. “You never messaged me though, how come?”

“I meant to but I was…” he tips his cup to his lips, “busy” and takes a long drink watching Lance tilt his head to the side. “Why do you care so much anyway?”

“You seem cool.” Lance's shoulders shift into a nonchalant shrug.

“I what?”

“You know,” his eyes drop to stare at their shoes, “I thought you were kind of cool to ask a random stranger for their number. Kind of badass right?”

That stupid grin on his face when he meets Keith’s eyes kind of takes his breath away. He gives a curt nod and drinks from his cup again his cheeks blossoming pink.

Damn straight he was badass.

 

Three more beers and they’re in the living room turned dance floor. Keith is going hard. _Real hard_. He lost his cardigan hours ago and someone had helped him tie his shirt back so his abdomen is now exposed. The music is so loud Keith can feel it beat through his chest. A steady wave from the bass echoes out and everyone is jumping. Keith can feel more than his feet leave the ground. It’s like an out of body experience and he’s thriving from the high of it. It could also be the alcohol. Regardless he’s in a good mood and feels like he could take on the world.

Lance was hesitant to follow him onto to the dance floor at first but it didn’t take him very long to reconsider. He’s hot and sweaty and he’s flush against Keith. He’s the only thing - the only person - Keith sees right now. He is pressing his body hard against Lance and smiling. His pale hand smoothes over the man’s chest, slips behind his head and grabs at the short hairs, turning away, his back now facing the other. The friction between them is sweet. Keith almost gives listening to the dark skinned man groan behind him.

The music slows to a languid hum and Keith uses the opportunity to drop with the beat, grinding his ass into his partner’s groin. Lance’s hands are grabbing his hips faster than Keith can think. It’s bliss.

The words fade out again and it’s slow and hot and Keith takes the time to really work on Lance. He rolls his hips back tight his heart pounding as the hands on him squeeze into his sweat cooled skin. Keith’s head lies on Lance’s shoulder pulling his own fingers through the soaked brown locks. There are lips on his neck and something hard rolling back into him in kind. Lance is scoring a semi.

The song is over as the bass picks back up and the hands on his sides are roaming new territory over Keith’s stomach. Keith is turning again with both arms around the others neck. They’re close, lips only inches apart but before Lance can tie them in he loses his hat to the ravenette whose grinning and sliding it over his own head. He’s into it and pulls Keith close again taking his ass in his hands. Keith lets the kiss happen this time. Their mouths are slick as they interlock and move against each other. The brunette’s lips are just as soft as Keith thought they’d be. The friction is killing him though, the heat almost unbearable, but he keeps going, determined to rock Lance’s world. But Lance is faster, his tongue sliding over Keith’s full lips. He’s hooked.

There’s a hearty chuckle coming from the other end. It sends a mass of vibrations into Keith’s mouth sending him higher and higher. A whimper escapes his lips when Lance pulls away. They’re still close enough to share breath and rub their foreheads together. A sweaty palm cups his cheek and he’s suddenly lost in dark irises.

“Think we need a room?” The brunette laughs low and deep. Keith’s not sure if his dance partner is serious or just joking but he means it when he deadpans his response.

“Please.” There’s a bit of a pause, Lance obviously needing a moment to process that.

“Jesus, fuck.” He is taking his hand and weaving them through the crowd, they’re climbing the stairs and Keith is being ushered into a room. He doesn’t question it, just busies himself with pushing the boy in front of him onto the queen-sized mattress. His knees take position on either side of Lance’s waist when he climbs on top of him, and tosses the hat. It lands somewhere on the floor - he hears it skid and hit the wall. Keith tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and leans down capturing those Spanish-speaking lips with his.

It only takes seconds for Lance to roll them around and take control again. But then he’s not doing anything. He’s just sitting there staring. There’s a battle clear on his face. Concern and wanton desire blurring together in ocean blue eyes. Keith whines, “What’s wrong?”

“You had a lot to drink… I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“ _Lance_ …” there is a huff of near defeat and annoyance as he props himself up on his elbows, “I sobered up like twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay but I don’t even know your name.”

“Its Keith,” he pushes up onto his hands and pinches Lance’s bottom lip between his teeth. Lance hums and kisses him pulling Keith’s shirt off.

“You win.” He tackles the him back into the comforter.

They don’t spare any time ripping each other’s clothes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really into Lance wearing joggers and baseball caps with stupid sayings on them. Rip.


	2. Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took awhile. Had a bit of trouble getting this out for some reason.  
> 

When Keith wakes up he’s warm and content. The sheets are soft, the pillow even softer and wow does it smell good. The warmth spreads through his body as he stretches nuzzling into the plush cushion. A sudden soreness rushes over him, from his neck to his ass to his legs…

Sore, why was he sore?

With a grunt he picks himself up and sits with his legs folded underneath him. This isn’t his room. In fact this isn’t even his dorm - or a dorm at all. Keith’s eyes search the room for something to jog his memory, but nothing comes besides the realization that he is very, _very_ naked. He snatches the sheet behind him rapidly trying to cover himself. Something falls to the floor behind him with a gentle shuffle, and with careful precision Keith gets off the bed to see his clothes had fallen from their place on the bed. It looks like they had been folded. He picks them up looking around and quickly changes, watching the closed door all the while.

He’s already in a very real state of panic when he sees a Polaroid photo lying innocently on one of the pillows. He picks it up gingerly, his hands a little shaky. It’s a picture of him, of Keith. He’s on the bed in nothing but his underwear on his knees and teasingly grabbing at the waistband of his boxers. _What the fuck happened last night?_ There’s something written on the open white frame in black sharpie. His thumb slides away to reveal the script. 

 _Mornin’ Beautiful ~_  

His cheeks are red with embarrassment. The longer he stares at the photo the more he remembers. His other hand reaches up to ghost over his swollen lips and shivers. He licks them tentatively and swallows as if doing so could bring back the taste of Lance’s tongue. The memory of soft heated lips pressed against his own and hands tightening their grip on his hips make his knees weak. A shaky breath leaves his sore throat as he shoves the photo into the pocket of his cardigan and makes haste out of the room.

Keith creeps down the hall and wills his body to be lighter than air when he descends the stairs. The last thing he wants is to be caught leaving. Once safely down the stairs he peeks around and hears someone in the kitchen. There’s a few people camped out in the living room, slumped over the couch or sprawled out on the floor. He smells bacon and something sweet coming from the kitchen. He wants to investigate but should really get going to avoid further embarrassment. But then again, nothing in Keith’s life ever goes the way he wants it to.

A ( _presumably one of the guys on the floor_ ) phone starts to ring. It startles Keith and when he jumps back he hits the front door, the knob slamming into his side. He curses up a storm as he stumbles forward. A brown head pops out from the kitchen doorway concern spread over the owners tan face.

“Hey man, you okay?”

“J-Just _peachy_ …” Keith groans out, his hands pressing into his side in an attempt to lessen the pain. He momentarily forgets he was trying to ninja his way out of here.

“Well, I got breakfast started so come on in here and help me.” Lance disappears with a few claps of his hands to emphasize that Keith should hurry.

The saliva in his mouth is thick going down when he swallows, willing it to take his nerves with. His eyes wander back to the front door and he bites his lip in contemplation. He _really_ wants to ditch and forget this embarrassing night ever happened. But, Lance’s charm caught his attention too easily and he was having a hard time ignoring the way his chest fluttered every time the man smiled.

To hell with it.

The kitchen is bigger than he remembers it from several hours ago. All the beer bottles and red plastic cups are in large black trash bags. Any liquor bottles that weren’t emptied last night are corked and set back on a shelf above the stove. Most importantly he notices is it smells a lot better than it did last night. Keith hesitantly takes a seat at the table and watches Lance from behind as he skillfully flips a pancake.

“There’s fresh coffee over there,” a slender hand points to the counter next to him then up to the cabinets, “and mugs up there. You can use whatever’s next to the pot and anything in the fridge.”

“Uh… okay, thank you.” Keith gets back up and opens the cabinet closest to the taller man, his heart picking up speed as their shoulders brush. He can smell Lance's unique cologne. It's sweet to his senses. “Do you um,” he peeks over his shoulder at Lance his cheeks a little pink when the boy makes eye contact with him, “do you want coffee? I can make you some.”

A small smile appears on Lance’s face then he pulls his attention back to the task at hand. “Yeah that would be great. Just black is fine.”

Keith’s face cringes at the thought of drinking any kind of coffee plain. It’s simply too bitter. Lance notices the pause and looks up again only to whip his head to the side so he doesn’t laugh directly into the ravenette's face. “D-Drinking it black is actually really good for you, you know.”

“Are you some kind of health nut?” He shifts back to the cabinet and pulls out another mug. One has little black cat paws on it another with colorful stripes at the rim.

“ _Wow_ , I’m offended. Are you always this grumpy in the morning?”

Keith’s eyes narrow with a frown as he moves down the counter away from Lance and pours them their coffee. “You don’t have to punish yourself with bitter, tasteless coffee.”

There’s another breathless chuckle and Keith sees him shake his head.

“I like it black. I think it actually tastes really good. Not everyone is ignorant to diabetes" he teases.

“Unbelievable,” he shakes his own head and adds three spoon full’s of sugar into his cup before stepping over to Lance’s other side for the fridge. There are three different creamers and Keith has to hold back his excitement when he spots the small bottle of Mint Mocha Coffee Mate. He’s quick to retrieve it and splash some into his mug and puts it back.

Over the next twenty minutes or so the two of them have successfully made breakfast and now sit at the table. The food Lance made is delicious but Keith can’t bring himself to eat more than a single pancake and maybe three strips of bacon. The nerves in his stomach have resurfaced, bubbling in his stomach acid and knotting his guts. He thinks he’s going to be sick. He’s sitting here eating breakfast with the guy he just slept with. A guy he doesn’t even know! Sure he was always on the rebellious side but he didn’t do stuff like this. Oh _God_ , if his mother ever found out…

Yet, here is said man, calm as can be scrolling through his smart phone and absent-mindedly shoveling food into his mouth.

Does anything faze him?

“Um…” Keith clenches his fists under the table his knee bouncing in place, “This was great and all but I really gotta get going.”

He pushes back from his chair and stands making sure he has everything before giving Lance a quick goodbye, speed walking through the house.

“Hey, wait!” He can here the man stumble in the kitchen and jogs the rest of the way to the door. Lance’s shocked face is the last thing he sees before slamming the door shut, maybe using a little too much force, and hauls ass down the street.  

 

“ _You slept with him!_ ” Pidge nearly chokes on her espresso when Keith tells the events that occurred last night.

“Pidge! Keep it down will you?”

“S-Sorry! I-I just-…I can’t!” She’s still laughing pretty hard curling up in her seat to bury her face in her knees trying to muffle the sound. Keith drags his hands down his face in pure agony and glances around to make sure they hadn’t given themselves too much attention. Thankfully the café is pretty busy today so the buzz of everyone’s separate conversations covered his friend’s outburst. Maybe it was a mistake to tell Pidge but he has to tell someone. The only reason he’s even here now rather than quietly dying back at his dorm is because this nerd owes him coffee.

“I blame you for this.”

“Whoa, hold on a sec!” She sets her cup back down having calmed down and sits up straight to confront her accuser, “I told you to go to the party. I didn’t say you should get wasted and hook up with your corner store boy toy.”

“He’s not my boy toy.” Keith mutters.

A soft hum with an attitude to back it is her only response. 

* * *

Keith has come to a few conclusions.

One: Lance goes to the same uni he does.

Two: Lance most likely lives at that frat house.

Three: He can never see this man ever again for the sake of his own dignity.

The memories of Friday night haunt his every waking thought and never fails to skip out on his dreams. Whether said dreams are fanciful or humiliating it’s all the same to him. Keith pulls the snapshot Polaroid of himself from the top drawer of his desk. He should shred it and take the remains out back to be burned then bury the ashes. Something is holding him back though. His hands shake every time he holds it. Memories pulse through him that make his skin pimple like goose skin. It isn’t a bad feeling though, in fact he enjoys the rush it gives him. He had been reckless and crazy and… he had felt so good. _Lance_ made him feel that. 

Lance and his copper skin, his silky brown hair, that warm citrus aroma, and eyes bluer than the sea and the sky combined. His lean chest and slim waist and _God those lips!_ Keith slaps the picture face down onto his desk his whole body shivering. His hand cups over his mouth, he can feel the blood burning through his cheeks. What in the hell did Lance do to him?

Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this.

He just needs to forget.

Keith nods to himself and shoves the picture back in his desk then grabs a change of clothes and a towel to head over to the showers. He could really use it after the fuck show he’s gotten himself into. When he pulls the curtain back and removes his shirt he notices some sort of odd pattern on either side of his hips. There are small red blotches all over the exposed skin but in no particular order. One or two disappear past his jeans. His brow furrows as he shimmies out of his pants only to gasp in slight horror. The marks follow down the inner parts on his thighs. Something starts to process in his head and he takes a deep breath before peeking into his briefs.

That motherfucker.

The curtain is ripped back again and he stumbles over to the sinks. Keith’s reflection stares back mortified. The hickeys sprawl over his collarbones and faint teeth indents circle around his nipples.

That motherFUCKER!

Its almost like Lance didn’t want him to forget and that in its self was infuriating-…ly addicting. This guy is dangerous. Maybe he can transfer schools, but what reason would he give his parents?

_Yeah I let some guy I met fuck my brains out and now I can’t bring myself to regret it and that’s just insane right? Right so you guys think you could ship me off to India or someplace far, far away?_

This whole situation was sickly humorous.

Keith barely sleeps that night and ends up being late to his first class the next day. His professor gives him a narrowed look over his glasses. All Keith can offer is a sheepish shrug and rushes over to his seat. Computer Sciences was great and all but it’s his least favourite, much like he’s his professor’s least favourite student. It was a mutual dislike. Chemistry wasn’t on his top five either but he’d much rather be there right now.

Keith’s tapping at the keys and has his eyes trained to the monitor in front of him. Nothing is really clicking for him today though and he’s making no headway in the codes that were given. He just can’t focus…

All of his classes pass by like this.

And it’s ridiculously frustrating that he can’t seem to pull his act together.

He meets back up with Pidge in the cafeteria at their usual table by the windows. She has since been graceful enough to drop her insistent teasing but it doesn’t help Keith’s mood. She does however try to get him to talk more about it. Honestly he’s just tired and wants to lock himself in his room for the rest of the semester.

“Hey, I know you didn’t want to talk about it but…” Keith looks up to see the junior nod her head, pointing with her chin to something behind him. He raises an eyebrow confused and shifts in his chair to look over his shoulder. He whips himself back around so fast he damn near falls out of his chair.

_“Fuck!”_

Before he can actually take a second to think he’s throwing the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head to hide his face.

“That’s him isn’t it?” Keith hisses an affirmative trying not to look suspicious as hell. Lance has walked into the cafeteria with a blonde woman practically glued to him by the hip. And it bothered him; immensely. Did he sleep with a player? Maybe he was in the closet?

“Are you finally gonna tell me what’s going on? Because I thought you liked this guy. Why are we avoiding him now?”

Keith purses his lips.

There’s a long pause, the two students just staring at each other, it’s an inner battle and Keith is losing. Finally he gives in, groaning and digging the heel of his hands into his eye sockets. So he tells his friend everything. All the necessary details, nothing she didn’t need or want to hear just the basics, from start to finish. When he’s done he can tell Pidge wants to set his ass on fire and she stifles what he can only guess would have been a chaotic laugh. She’s respectful though and clears her throat. She was a good friend when it really mattered.

“So you’re embarrassed by your attraction to him.” It wasn’t really a question more so it’s just her confirming the facts. He nods shamefully. His heart is fervently racing just talking about the frat boy.

“I think you’re overacting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well when you told me yesterday that you guys hooked up I thought I’d be a pal and snoop around for you.”

“A-And?” Pidge smirks and pulls out her laptop from her bag pulling up a word document.

“Lance McClain, majoring in Business, he transferred over here during spring break last year. He’s a Photographer and he’s actually _really_ good.” She passes the laptop over to Keith so he can look over the attached images.

 _Wow… No kidding_. She continues to ramble off as he sort of reads along. Lance spent a short time at the Art Institute leaving without even getting his art degree. _Why would he leave such a great school before graduating?_ That didn’t make much sense.

“He lived in the East Side dorms before he made friends with the Omega Blue fraternity. I can give you his class schedule for the semester if you wa-“

“Th-That’s not necessary Pidge, but thank you for the thought.” Keith slides the computer back to its owner and picks at his food.

A photographer. His thoughts jump briefly to the Polaroid stashed away in his desk. Now that does make sense.

_Wait..._

His eyes widen as a disturbing thought passes over him. What if that’s not the only picture Lance took that night? Of course it wasn't, there has to be more - why the fuck didn’t he realize this before!

“Keith? You okay buddy?” She barely gets the words out as Keith jumps to his feet scrambling to get his things together, panic ripped over his features.

“I-I gotta go.”

“Keith!”

He has to make sure.

* * *

**_Keith:_ _Hey Its Keith from the other night_**

_**Lance:**  _ _**Oooohhhh yeah I remember** _

There’s a winking emoji following the message.

**_Keith:_ _Yeah great do you think we could meet up?_**

_**Lance:**  _ _**Depends** _

**_Keith:_ _On what_**

_**Lance:**  _ _**What did you have in mind~** _

**_Keith:_ _Im not trying to hook up with you again okay I just need to talk to you_**

_**Lance:**  _ _**Sounds important Im free at 5 if you wanna meet me in the library court yard** _

Keith makes the deal and at five o’clock sharp he’s standing there waiting impatient as ever. His anxious mind his thriving off the multiple possibilities surrounding the fact Lance took pictures of his drunk ass. He doesn't know him. For all Keith knows he made copies and handed them out. The whole school could be laughing at him right now. No. No, if that were true Pidge would have found out. She would have told him. The sound of echoing footsteps draws his attention to the opposite side of the yard and he watches as Lance struts over.

“So?” Lance stands a few inches taller even when slouching, his hands comfortably hidden away in his sweatpants. He doesn’t exactly have the same cheerfulness as he did the last time they spoke but Keith tries not to think on it too hard. There are more pressing matters at hand.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Are there more… pictures?”

“More?”

“That morning when I woke up there was a photo of me that I assume you left on purpose.”

“Yeah, what about it?” Nothing really did faze him, did it?

“Did you take more?”

Lance sighs and it seems almost out of character. He removes a hand from his pocket and rubs the back of his neck. “No, I didn’t take more than one.”

“Did you photocopy it?”

“No.”

“Take a picture with your phone?”

“Dude,” he’s annoyed, that’s pretty apparent now, “No, okay? That’s the only picture and you have it so how about you calm down and stop assuming you know me.”

“I’m not-“

“You are, and I don’t appreciate it. I deal with enough stereotypes to have a pretty good idea what's going on in your head. No offense.” They’re both quiet and Keith can feel the guilt start to set in. “Look… You’re obviously upset and I’m assuming you didn’t mean for things to get that crazy. I get it. But I’m not that kind of guy okay?”

“Yeah… Sorry.” He feels foolish now. He really is an idiot.

It’s quiet again until Lance clears his throat albeit a little awkwardly. And somehow Keith finds himself thinking it’s kind of cute the way his eyes make contact with his and nervously dart away. They’re lighter in the daylight. Almost clear, reminiscent of how he remembered them that day at the convenience store.

“Can I make it up to you?” The confusion is obviously clear on Lance’s face so Keith tries again, “you know, for freaking out and assuming things of you.”

“I can tell your the paranoid type, but it's cool.” Lance quirks one side of his mouth into a careful smirk.

“I'll treat you to food.” Keith tries a little desperately and Lance laughs, for real this time and Keith knows now that he was definitely acting weird before. Nevertheless, it’s nice to have Lance smiling again. He doesn’t notice how contagious it is.

“You win again I guess.” Keith gets the reference and smacks the taller boys arm his cheeks flushing. Lance's eyes light up and nudges back with his shoulder. They start their trek back through campus and Keith thinks, _maybe this wasn’t such a horrible mistake after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So heres the [PLAYLIST](http://open.spotify.com/user/sugarmiilk/playlist/37hlSgn3agcFYDIwc165eI)
> 
> You can ask questions or just yell with me on [TUMBLR](http://yukiekun.tumblr.com/) or [TWITTER](https://twitter.com/yukiekun_)


	3. Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly shorter than the others but hopefully just as entertaining I hope I hope!!

Originally Keith thought he’d take Lance to one of the pizza places in the small strip mall by the university. Not ideal for a first date. Which it wasn’t, of course. He’s just buying the guy food because he was an asshole earlier. Sorry I’m An Asshole Food™. Right.

Well, Lance wasn’t satisfied with that and because Keith didn’t have a car they used his. It was a beat up 2012 silver Volvo, obviously either bought cheap or a hand-me-down. With the way Lance dressed and presented himself you’d think his family was well off. Keith really had to stop assuming things. It’s a horrible habit of his.

The ride is comfortable though. Lance’s car has good heating and the stereo isn’t bad either. The music humming from said sound system is questionable however. Keith finds out his one nightstand has a concerning obsession with icons like Beyoncé and Shakira. Don’t get him wrong though, he doesn’t hate it, it’s just the only thing Lance will play. And he knows every word to every song that rolls through his playlist. But maybe that’s kind of cute…

Eventually they arrive to their destination and pull into a diner parking lot. Lance turns down the radio tossing a smile Keith’s way. A smile that does funny things to Keith’s breathing. Because in the dimming orange light from the setting sun he feels warm in a different kind of way. It isn’t the heat blowing against his cheeks, and it’s not the sun’s last dying rays filtering through the fogged windows.

He bites his bottom lip quickly averting his eyes and unbuckles pulling himself out of the car. Lance watches him for a second, Keith can feel his eyes on him but he doesn’t take the chance to make eye contact through the glass. They walk up to the ramp, Lance ever eager to open the door for him with a comical bow. Keith rolls his eyes trying not to think about the butterflies starting to take flight in his stomach. _It’s just your anxiety_ , he tells himself.

It doesn’t take them long to get seated and order some drinks. Lance gushes a little over the fact that they got The Good Seats™, which translates to a small booth by the windows. And he means small, like a table for one small. When they sit down their knees collide causing Keith to slam himself back into the soft leather of the bench. This actually pushes it just enough to cause the older gentleman behind him to feel it and grumble a, “watch it kid”.

Keith feels awful and embarrassed and hot. He can feel everyone at the bar to their right staring at him. But then, Lance is settling in and chuckling the awkwardness away, a harmonious sound that steals the oxygen straight from the Keith’s lungs. How does he always come off so cool and lax?

Keith literally can’t remember a single time in history he was ever this uncool or this ridiculously unnerved. (Except for maybe that one time in fourth grade when he threw up on stage during a choir performance.) All in all, he just really needed to find his chill and stick to it. He needs to cool down, be cool, because he _is_ cool. Keith is a cool guy. For sure.

But when Lance starts to speak, Keith doesn’t even need to try anymore. The way the words seem to flow from him is effortless albeit sporadic. And even though Keith has a hard time following the line of conversation here and there, his chest doesn’t feel nearly as tight and he’s almost completely forgotten his own anxiety.

“-so my dad would just call me from Wisconsin to ask me to get him a drink, even though I was at home all the way back in Arizona. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he was asking me of all people when my mom was the one in the kitchen.” Lance is animatedly telling him one of many (apparently) stories from his childhood and to be perfectly clear, he’s choking on a tomato from his chili, not laughter. Definitely not laughter.

“My little brother was pretty chill though and made a deal with me that every time I had to get someone a drink he owed _me_ a drink. With ice.”

“Why ice?”

“Because we lived in the middle of no-oasis-dessert-Arizona and to get back at everyone for using me as their personal camel I wouldn’t put ice in their cups. So Ben would put ice in mine in spite of our family.”

“That’s…actually genius.” Keith snickers and just barely catches the way Lance's eyes try to catch a glimpse of the pull at his lips. He’s trying really hard not to smile.

“I was the mother fucking Drink Bitch™, someone had to defend me.” Lance wins this round. He can’t hold back his laughter anymore. Fine. Maybe he is kind of funny. But he’ll never admit it out loud.

* * *

Keith mildly regrets denying Lance’s invitation to play video games at his place. That’s the funny thing about anxiety though. In a weird and almost painful way, it was a blessing – but mostly a curse. It kept him out of trouble these days. For example, when Lance offered the invite. Though he desperately wanted to say yes, anxiety warned him of all the various ways and opportunities he would have to embarrass himself. What a _good_ little helper.

He didn’t really develop his anxiety until late high school. That tender time in ones life where everyone and their grandmother feels obligated to drop seven pound weights on your shoulders reminding you of the responsibilities awaiting you right around the corner. And of course as the only adopted child of his family he really felt that pressure to do well and get into a good college, hence his stupid idea to major in Aerospace Engineering. He should have gone for something more suited to his interests, like Meteorology, Astronomy, or something in Theoretical Sciences. Engineering in any aspect just…wasn’t him.

“Yeah, no, classes are going great so far,” Keith hums into the receiving end of the phone he has lodged between his shoulder and ear. His mother makes weekly calls to check in. It’s more like every other but that doesn’t mean he’s any more excited. He cares for her deeply but she can be a little over bearing sometimes, especially after Shiro’s accident.

A drop of the coffee he’s pouring into his mug catches his thumb. It’s hotter than he anticipates and grits his teeth flapping his wounded hand about in the air. His mother catches the inward take of breath, motherly instincts kicking in and babbling off once more. “Mom, I’m fine, just spilled some coffee on my hand.”

More insistent dotting. Keith reassures her he’ll be sure to put aloe on it before bed regardless of how unnecessary it would be. He ends the call on his way back to his room from the small kitchen. The mound of homework awaiting his return has him exhausted before he’s even sat down.

About an hour into it his roommate fumbles in with a case of soda and a goofy smile on his face per usual. Hunk is a cool guy, a huge nerd really and he seriously could not have gotten here at a more opportune time.

“Hunk, one engineer to anoth-“

“Keith, one friend to another, no. I am not helping you with your homework again.” He deadpans, completely intercepting Keith’s cry for help and tosses one of the sodas to him.

Keith catches it one handed, no problem, but turns in his seat with an honest to God pout on his face. Yes, even he can be petty.

“Why don’t you ask Pidge, can’t she help you?”

“She’s less likely to help me than you are.” Hunk cracks a grin and nods in agreement.

“That’s true.” He decides to let him Pout It Out© (a term he’s copyrighted in reference to Keith) and goes about his business.

Keith groans pushing his bangs out of his face and stretches back in his seat. His phone violently vibrating against the wood of his desk spooks him at first. Dark eyes grow wide when he moves to see who it is. Those damn butterflies are resurfacing.

**Lance: hey hey**

**Lance: do you have classes tomorrow**

**Keith: yes**

**Lance: :’(**

**Keith: but not until later**

He was going to ignore him and focus on his work, really he was, but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings, you know? Lance knows exactly how to reel him in. Like earlier in the week at the diner when Lance had pulled out his Polaroid camera - Keith staring at it hard.

...

_“Do you mind if I…?”_

_“What? Take a picture? No, I don’t really care.”_

_“Then can I take one of you?”_

_He is a little starstruck at first and then very guarded remembering the first picture Lance took. But when he reassures the ravenette that he can keep this one as well… Well, he can’t say no. There is no harm in it, right?_

_He sees a slightly different side of Lance then. The way he holds the camera in steady practiced hands, the way he purses his lips as he concentrates. His soft and guided voice asking him to just relax and try not to pose. So he leans into the table a little and pulls his hot chocolate close to his chest looking up to quietly stare out the window watching the cars fly by._

_Lance looks really pleased with the end result and Keith really wants to let him keep it but…_

_..._

**Lance: wanna go see a movie?**

**Keith: like at a theatre?**

**Lance: where else would we go to see a movie?**

**Lance: or did you have another idea?**

Keith instantly regrets asking that. Fuck.

**Keith: no**

**Keith: movies sound good**

**Keith: what time**

**Lance: 11am**

**Keith: that’s such a weird time to go to the movies**

**Keith: and on a Tuesday**

He starts to type something else when his phone starts ringing and Lance’s name flashes across his screen. What the fuck. Why is he calling him? His heart starts to pound in his chest, his palms sweaty. The pad of his burnt thumb flicks the screen accepting the call at the last second as he shakily brings the device to his ear, “ _hello_ …?”

“Wow, I thought for sure you weren’t going to pick up.”

“Why…why did you call me?”

“I don’t really like texting, it takes too long.”

“Oh, okay.” This is so weird. He can hear the soft static of Lance’s breath blowing into the speaker…into his ear.

“So about that movie!”

Oh, right. They were talking about something like that weren’t they?

“It’s actually the best time to go. It’s cheaper and we’ll have, like, the _whole_ place to ourselves.”

To themselves? Like they’d practically be alone together in a dark theatre watching some random movie? Yeah, what a great idea, because what could possibly go wrong...

* * *

“Wow…that’s…actually not a bad choice.”

“Oh my God, you actually doubted me.”

“What? No I just…uh...”

Lance gives him a pointed look of skepticism folding his arms into himself. It's not that he thinks Lance would have a horrible taste in movies, he just wasn't sure what to expect. But when they got to the theatre and Lance suggested the new Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2 film, Keith is a little less subtle about his surprise.

“I have been dying to see this movie and instead of going with someone else I chose to take you. I am so hurt Keith. Look at the utter pain in my eyes.” He takes a step closer leaning until the tips of their noses just barely touch. Keith holds his breath, the hands in his hoodie pocket clenching the fabric between his fingers. Shit. This guy really makes it impossible not to think about kissing him. There’s a glint of something smug in Lance’s eyes when he pulls back. Keith can’t fathom why he’s so impressed with himself.

_Unless he can read minds._

The fact he has to stop and think about that one makes him want to kick himself. He follows Lance over to the ticket booth to find he’s already bought Keith’s ticket as well as his own. “Why did you do that?”

Lance raises his eyebrows thoughtfully at the question then gives him a small smile accompanied by a shrug. “I just felt like it.”

Keith loses control over his mouth when he pitches the next question, “Is this a date?”

Lance stops a little ways away from the snack bar turning to face the shorter boy next to him. His face is blank but there’s something unsaid in the way his eyes look like they’re swimming. Keith regrets asking. Why can’t he just keep a hold of himself?

“Not if you don’t want it to be.” Lance’s eyes turn soft, careful, like maybe there is something else waiting at the edge of his tongue but he’s testing the waters first.

Keith’s lips part, his jaw going a little slack. And those damn butterflies feel like they are ready to burst out of his chest. The ball is in his court. Lance is letting him decide.

“If…If this _were_ a date…” Lance nods to show he’s listening and Keith fidgets with the ticket in his hand, “would that mean we’re… _dating?”_

Lance finally relaxes a little. _D_ _id he seem tense before?_ Hesmiles with a charm Keith recalls from the party several nights ago. He shrugs and pulls at his shoulder, “Nah, a date is just a date. It doesn’t really have to mean anything.”

There’s a suave kind of nonchalance about the way Lance expresses nervousness and it’s infuriating. _How can you be anxious and still act cool? What kind of messed up witchcraft is that?_ Keith blushes with a hesitant nod, accepting that this is in fact a date. The brunette smiles with a graceful chuckle rubbing the back of his neck. His response is a slightly awkward “cool”.

Lance fights him on buying the snacks too and how can Keith say no when he’s too distracted with the way Lance brushes his fingers against his own. It's a sly move. How did Lance even know that would work?

Is Keith that transparent?

The theatre they enter really might as well be empty. There are two families and maybe one couple up in the way back but other than that, they’re pretty much alone. Lance lets him pick the seats. So obviously he chooses a set off to the side. There are only four chairs in each row and Keith really hates it when strangers sit near him. Sitting here eliminates that possibility.

Lance doesn’t comment, he just settles down next to him stretching his neck to look around then comes back full circle to lay his eyes on Keith. They’re knees and elbows are touching and honest to God it’s driving Keith crazy. The slightest bit of contact with this boy sets his skin on fire. It’s so unnerving but not because he hates it. It is the exact opposite really. He craves it, craves it like he craves salted caramel candies and Lance is exactly that. He’s kind even though he can be sort of moody when offended or when he’s confused. Its oddly refreshing though in the way that he’s just really fucking honest all the time. And he’s sweet to the core. He is warm and once you’ve cleared friend status he sticks to you like caramel sticks to your teeth. Even when he's not present you can still taste him. It’s just the little things Keith has picked up so far but who’s really paying attention right?

The movie is great even though Keith doesn’t watch most of it. He’s far more interested in the guy sitting next to him. Did you know Lance literally looks good in any kind of lighting? This kid is just that photogenic. And his laugh is ridiculously contagious. It’s smooth and a little high pitched and bubbly. And his hands are really warm.

At one point during the movie Lance laughed so hard he subconsciously grabbed Keith’s wrist. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Keith has come to the conclusion that Lance is actually a star disguising himself in human skin. No one should be that warm all the time, or that bright.

After they grab something to eat Lance makes another offer to hang out at his place. He’s nervous and anxious and he can’t help but think back to the night they slept together. The memories play in his head like a slideshow. He doesn’t want this to end though. Being with Lance and hanging out and getting to know him… It’s actually really enjoyable. Keith likes laughing. He likes laughing with Lance and bumping shoulders as they walk and sharing smiles. Being with Lance is warm. Being with Lance is a strange sense of familiarity and anxiety all in one. It’s an adventure. Maybe not a grand one, but it’s better than sitting in his dorm playing Kingdom Hearts by himself or waiting for Hunk to get done work. So he agrees.

Keith didn’t really have a chance to look around Lance’s room last time as he was a little too preoccupied and then he was trying to escape without absolutely humiliating himself. So this time around he makes sure to really take it all in. Lance motions for him to take a seat on his bed and he notices the sheets have been changed. They were a light blue last time, they’re stark white today with thin blue stripes - and now that he’s really paying attention he notices the grey walls and the string of lights wrapping around the ceiling. _Were those there before?_

Lance draws his attention over to the floor on the opposite side of his bed. He’s pulled out a bin stock full of video game cases. Keith’s eyes turn wide as he tosses himself onto his stomach to stare down at his choices.

“It’s not so much a hobby anymore as it is maybe an obsession.” Lance says off handedly. Keith shakes his head, “it’s a worthy obsession.”

He chuckles and stands to start setting up the small television sitting on his one dresser. He mentioned before that his housemates would most definitely be home today and they were a little rowdy. Keith really appreciates the warning. Especially when one of them pops his blonde head in the doorway seemingly coming out of fucking nowhere.

"Hey Lance, do you sti-" he cuts himself off spotting Keith on the bed and a curious eyebrow raises past his bangs.

"Ah, this is Keith, Keith this is one of my three housemates, Daniel." Lance offers the introduction casually.

"You can just call me Dan."

"Okay, nice to meet you." Keith gives his best friendly smile which Daniel returns with much greater ease. Keith kind of zones out after that briefly acknowledging the quick conversation the two have before Daniel exits and doesn't bother them again.

“So we can either chill on my bed and play or I have beanbag chairs downstairs I could bring up, your choice.”

Keith snaps out of his daze and glances down at the royal blue comforter he’s sprawled out on and his cheeks dust over a light pink. “I um…beanbag chairs sound cool.”

He bites his lip as he picks himself up feeling a little awkward now but Lance simply nods and disappears into the hallway. Keith scoots to the edge of the queen sized bed and smashes his face into his hands. He can’t really even believe he’s here right now to be honest. What if this turns out like the last time he was over?

_But would that really be a bad thing?_

His face starts to burn his hands and wow, yeah he’s definitely thinking pretty strongly about diving out the window. He kicks his shoes off with a huff, shoving the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows and tying his hair up off his neck. For a brief moment he has the chance to check himself out in Lance’s mirror, but then said boy could be heard bounding up the stairs.

“Oh whoa, those are huge,” Lance drags in two very large, fleece covered beanbags and tosses them across the floor, “I should have asked if you needed help.”

“Nah man, it’s all good.”

Once they set everything up they plop down into the cushions. Keith props his controller onto his knees letting himself sink back. Lance has his in his lap, his ankles lazily crossed. This atmosphere is so… soft. But then a lot of things about Lance feel relaxed like that. Like in the way he carries himself, in the way he drives with one hand on the wheel the other propped on the console. His whole aura is just… so fucking soothing.

“So why Tekken?”

“What?”

Lance gestures with his controller up to the TV, the menu for Tekken 6: Bloodline Rebellion slowly fading to black when the brunette presses play, the intro starting up.

“Oh, um… I actually really enjoy the story line, it’s not just for the badass co-op play.”

“Oh man, Alisa is my _main girl_ , she’s so sweet but she seriously kicks ass.”

“That’s… that’s funny, I’ve always really liked her and Lars.” Keith is smiling although it’s small it still counts. Hunk never wants to play as Alisa and neither does Pidge. Although Keith doesn't mind playing her he's always had a soft spot for Lars. “I used to play as Jin but since BR I’m pretty set on Lars and Alisa.”

“They do make a pretty great team.”

They grin at each other and for the first time since hanging out with Lance, Keith doesn’t mind the butterflies, doesn’t mind the giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest. Maybe he’s finally found his match, in more ways than one.

It turns out Lance and Keith make a pretty poor team in the beginning. It takes them the first half hour to figure out what the hell the other is trying to do, and another twenty minutes for them to get on the same page. But when it’s all said and done, yeah, they do make a pretty good team after all. It doesn’t last long though. Two hours into their session and Keith needs to head out for class.

“Would you maybe wanna come back over afterwards? I’m literally free all night.” Lance says walking him out to the porch. Keith smiles a little shyly, tucking his chin into the high collar of his jacket, the porch light softly illuminating their faces.

“If you really miss me that much, sure. But I don’t get out ‘til seven.”

The brunette chuckles averting his gaze and nods, “yeah that’s fine, we can order pizza or something.”

Keith agrees and Lance playfully pulls his beanie down over his eyes, “don’t catch any frost bite out there.”

_Not as long as I’m thinking of you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy wow i hope and pray you guys enjoyed this one~  
> [PLAYLIST](http://open.spotify.com/user/sugarmiilk/playlist/37hlSgn3agcFYDIwc165eI)  
> [TUMBLR](http://yukiekun.tumblr.com/)  
> [TWITTER](https://twitter.com/yukiekun_)


	4. Snowflakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been over a month and I'm so sorry this took so long D: uuummmm forewarning there is a "smut" scene towards the end but I wouldn't really call it that as I didn't really go into detail. However if you guys let me know, I'll post a separate thing of all the sex scenes c;

Keith is anxious to get back to Lance’s house. He almost sprints the whole way back from his classes, but of course he wouldn’t be caught dead running towards the Omega Blue House. He doesn’t want Lance to think he’s desperate or anything. As he comes up on the porch for the second time tonight he whips his phone out to send a quick text, alerting Lance that he’s returned. It only takes a few seconds until he can actually hear him bounding down the stairs. There is a momentary pause and then the door is swung open to reveal a slightly disheveled but rather well composed boy with a wide grin to greet him. Keith nervously smiles back as he steps inside.

How many times is this now that Lance has successfully persuaded him to stick around? He takes a deep breath as they ascend the stairs back up to the brunette’s bedroom. Keith halts dead still in the doorway – dim lighting from the fairy lights cast a rosy sort of ambiance to the room. He feels Lance come up behind him, can feel the heat of his breath through his jacket collar. Everything is placed exactly as it was when he left besides the two bottles of Smirnoff ‘elegantly’ placed between the beanbag chairs. He doesn’t even attempt to stop the awe struck huff that blows through his nostrils. “What’s going on here?”

Lance teasingly steps around him brushing his hand over his shoulder as he passes slumping into his seat prior to Keith leaving. “What do you mean?”

The ravenette lets out a non-committal sigh shrugging his jacket and sneakers off. “I mean with the whole Pintrest board type setup here.”

He throws in a bit of a playful grin dropping his items on the floor by the nightstand. As anxious as he was at first this atmosphere is lightweight. Keith joins him on the floor eyeing the chilled bottle being offered his way. Dark eyes squint with light concern when Keith doesn’t take the beverage. It’s cute actually, the way his thin eyebrows knit together on his forehead as he tries to fit the pieces. His little ‘aha’ moment is even cuter though. “Okay, I know what you’re thinking, but I swear it’s not like that.”

“You don’t intend on getting me wasted again?”

“No, not at all,” he mimics a proud salute giving Keith his best version of a stern and loyal soldier, “scouts honour!”

Keith really can’t help the chuckle vibrating up his throat. He shakes his head and swipes the bottle from tan hands. Lance’s arm drops, grinning ear to ear, “and I mean, who can resist knockin’ back a cold one with a cute boy like me?”

“You’re not cute.” _You’re gorgeous._

He’s not sure why he had been fighting this for so long, why he had been so hesitant around this gorgeous, kind-hearted idiot. Lance may not really be his type but he sure did like him. He was attracted to risk. Keith has always been into tough guys, one’s with facial hair and tattoos, men that didn’t necessarily care about him personally. He liked guys he knew wouldn’t last.

But, Lance is different. He’s risky in a perfect, comfortable kind of way. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed the way Lance picked up on his anxious behaviour and has found ways to move around it without saying anything. He’s considerate in the way he never pushes too far or the way he raises one eyebrow when he contemplates what to say next, ever careful to pick the right words. It’s endearing really and that’s a little terrifying.

It’s terrifying because Lance is risky with his kind smiles and the warm, honest vibes he portrays, drawing you in dangerously close. He’s mischievous, energetic, caring and open minded. Lance is great, he is right, and the last time he felt right like this…

He can’t let himself fall that hard again. He needs to remember to pace himself, keep a distance. Lance is too good and good isn’t exactly his style.

Keith barely notices how fast the time passes, how quickly 7:30 turns to 11:45 in the blink of an eye. He’s laughing a little too hard at a dumb joke Lance made when his phone vibrates. Its just Hunk sending him a picture of a cute cat he found on twitter. Wait. When did it get that late?

**Hunk: Cute cats aside are you staying out tonight or should I wait up for you?**

He should go, he should definitely go, but Lance is still talking and Keith’s not going to interrupt him, that’s just plain rude. So he lies back in the soft fleece material of the beanbag and listens to him ramble off about something his friend did last week. Lance is already attractive on his own but like this, going off on whatever he’s so excited about, he’s just stunning really, like ridiculously handsome. The batting of long lashes catches his attention, and blue eyes stretch wide in what Keith supposes is surprise. Why is he looking at him like that? His eyebrows pull forward averting his gaze, he is feeling a little bashful.

“What?” He huffs out a laugh unable to stop himself from smiling at the stupid look on Lance’s dark features.

“Stay right there.”

He stumbles to his feet grabbing his vintage camera. Oh. _This again_. Keith watches the boy carefully as he’s framed through the eyepiece. Lance is really attractive like this too – when he’s serious, concentrated.

“Keep doing that…” Lance is whispering, maybe to himself because Keith barely caught that. The shutter snaps, that whirring noise ripping through the camera and the Polaroid starts to print. Tan fingers gingerly pull it free.

The camera is set back down on the dresser, Lance flopping into the sack next to Keith once more. He slides over close so they sit shoulder to shoulder and Keith’s not sure if that was on purpose or just the momentum of Lance’s weight pushing him across the floor, but it has his heart racing. His knee bumps into his, violet-grey eyes dart up to see if the other notices. He’s met with a profile trained on the developing image held tentatively between thin hands, so he takes a deep breath and pushes further leaning his head closer.

They watch as the picture slowly appears onto the glossy white surface. Keith can feel Lance breathing on the shell of his ear. It takes every muscle in his body not to shudder. This is nice. It’s _so_ nice. They’re practically cuddling on the floor so far into each other’s personal bubbles that all he can even smell in Lance’s cologne. It’s not something he can rightly name off the top of his head but it’s something like oranges and sunscreen lotion. He smells the way a summer breeze feels. Cool and refreshing. It doesn’t sting his nostrils or make him want to gag and surely this has to be a Lance exclusive kind of thing. Like this is just his natural scent and it’s not a perfume at all.

He’s not sure when it happens but his mop of dark hair finds its place on a broad shoulder, his knees pulled up to his chest cuddled into Lance’s side. When the image clears and sharpens Keith sits up to give his cuddle buddy a hopeful look. “Is it done? It looks done.”

Lance nods, a rather satisfied grin revealing small dimples as he hands the photo over. It has a soft kind of glow to it. Its peaceful and above all aesthetically pleasing as most of Lance’s Polaroids have been. The string of lights in the background and the moon pouring light in through the windows set the perfect mood. And then there’s Keith angled in with this starry-eyed daze brushed across his soft features.

“You look so content. Like you’re not even smiling really but you just…” he blows air through his nose like he’s given up on whatever he was about to say, “you look nice.”

“Thanks…” he trails off his cheeks surely red again if not at the very least pink and passes the photo back.

“You…don’t want it?”

“You always write something stupid on them. Like at the diner you wrote, _Feed Me_.” Lance chuckles at the memory with a nod in agreement. “Okay, okay, lets see…”

He crawls over to his desk searching for a marker then returns resting the photo on his knee tapping the end of the utensil against his chin as he thinks. An unfamiliar smirk presses Lance’s lips together as he pulls the cap off and scrawls onto the blank space of the Polaroid. He’s sure to keep it hidden from Keith’s view until he’s done then turns the image over. He’s smug about it. Keith is skeptical when he glances down and flips it over to reveal the long anticipated caption.

_Stay the night_

Well, that was certainly the last thing he expected. His sweatshirt suddenly feels too tight like it’s purposefully restricting his breathing. The way his heart bats against his ribs doesn’t help in the slightest.

“Hey Keith?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“To clarify I don’t mean anything by it. I just want to spend more time with you, you know?”

Okay, yeah, what the hell. Someone can’t be sexy and cute. That’s just a basic gene concept. Like it’s a goddamn law of nature. And of course that didn’t seem to apply to Lance at all. He knows very well what this man is capable of, what his hands are capable of doing. It’s obviously something Keith thinks about often without really meaning too, but Lance? No, he’s a respectable young man who legitimately just wants to hang out and that’s good. It’s good that Keith is the only one feeling this way. He needs that push back to stop himself, stop him from falling, because that is exactly what’s happening here isn’t it? So yeah, this is great. It’s a necessary thing for Lance to reject him before Keith allows himself to take that plunge. He doesn’t deserve to fall for someone so genuine. He would just end up hurting the people around him, hurting himself. Keith needs to step back.

His eyes lift to face Lance, ready to decline, ready to leave and scold himself for letting his heart run ahead of his mind like that but…shit. Puppy eyes have never fazed him before. Not like this. Not like the way Lance swallows back his pride to flutter feather light lashes at the ravenette. Or the chilling way he drags his bottom lip in to anxiously nibble on. That just isn’t right.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” He perks up instantly - his whole posture straightens with new excitement. “You’ll stay?”

“Yeah…I’ll stay.”

Lance has the stupidest grin plastered to his cheeks. He’s almost bashful and ridiculously adorable in the time he takes to calm himself down. Does it really make him that happy? Keith’s not even anything special, not in the way Lance makes him feel sometimes.

**Keith: yeah…**

**Keith: don’t wait up for me**

A movie and a half later Lance is ready to call it a night and at three in the morning Keith can only agree. He’s usually more of the nocturnal type but all this social interaction has him drained. That’s probably a good thing though, he’ll most likely get a good nights rest. Speaking of which, “what’s the plan for sleeping arrangements?”

“As my humble guest the bed is all yours. I can just crash on the couch downstairs.” This is not at all what Keith had been expecting but it’s more than likely for the best. He doesn’t mean to wear the disappointment he’s feeling so evidently on his sleeve. If he had more self-control he wouldn’t even be here right now with his eyes wide and his chest growing wider with a bud of hope at Lance’s next proposition.

“Or I could stay up here with you?”

“I think…maybe I’d prefer that.”

There’s something intriguing passing over cerulean irises, “cool.”

“Cool.”

They stand in the middle of the bedroom for a few awkward moments before Lance breaks the silence with a cough his hand rubbing at his neck. “I’m gonna grab some extra bed stuff.” He gestures towards the door and Keith nods straightening his back eyes downcast.

Once Lance is out of sight he drops into a crouch his hands dragging dramatically over his face. Why did he do that? Why does he keeping moving forward like this, crossing his own boundaries? This is bad. He’s ignoring his limits again. By this point he is fully aware of what he wants but… He can’t do this. What the hell was he thinking.

“You okay man?”

The sound of Lance’s voice breaks his train of thought and damn near scares the life out of him. Keith jumps up pulling his sweatshirt down where it had rode up avoiding the other’s gaze. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good!” He laughs it off.

He can feel eyes burning into him, looking for a sign that he’s not being completely honest. His clothes feel tight again. Lance drops it however in favour of getting them set up for bed. A load of blankets and pillows are thrown to the floor.

“You’re not really going to sleep on the floor are you?”

“That is in fact the plan.”

“It’s your bed though. You should sleep in your own bed.”

Lance’s lips twitch into a coy, mischievous grin as he takes a few slow and languid steps towards him effectively closing the long space that was between them. “Are you saying you’d rather I sleep in bed with you?”

Oh Keith could punch him right now if he wasn’t so distracted by how confidently Lance backed those words, like he knew Keith would say yes. He isn’t just playing with him – there’s more to it than that. He’s asking for something more, offering him exactly what he’s been thinking about for the past few days now. His impulsive side is more than willing to comply and play along though. It’s almost like he can’t control himself around Lance specifically. “I mean, that’s not what I meant, but…”

Lance’s façade visibly dissolves. Was he actually just playing? Oh no, he fucked up. He shouldn’t have said th-

“You’d be okay with that?”

“What?”

“Sharing a bed” he appears a little breathless, like he can’t believe this is happening, “or am I reading into this too much?”

No way. Is Lance actually nervous? So then…that means Keith isn’t the only one constantly doubting this magnetic pull between them, right? His heart is racing, his palms a little sweaty. He just needs to relax. Right. Here goes nothing.

“I think you’re reading into it just fine actually.” His cheeks are hot and probably red too. Was flirting ever this hard before?

Lance covers his mouth with a hand, drags it and pinches his chin. Keith quickly tucks a weft of hair behind his ear, he’s nervous as all hell and Lance isn’t really saying anything. He must have pushed a little too far, must have finally crossed that line.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ his words stop short when he feels long fingers brushing against his own and slowly joined by the other. He forgets to even breathe as said hand is brought over and around the brunette’s waist. He takes the hint placing his other hand there as well. Lance does the same pulling him in close, resting their foreheads together. This seems more intimate than last time, then again, Keith doesn’t remember much from that particular occasion. However, there is one thing that comes to mind, something he vaguely recalls doing that Lance had liked. So he lets his hands slide down the brunette's back over his sweatpants and squeezes his backside.

“Oh!” Lance flinches his head back with a chuckle. “You remember that, huh?”

“Something like that,” he slips from Lance’s hold shedding his hoodie. Lance shakes his head clearly amused as he removes his t-shirt and flashes Keith a wild grin. How can he possibly even attempt to fight his desire when the boy in front of him is so frustratingly addicting. His bronze skin glowing, eyes growing darker by the second – his pupils so enlarged he can just barely see the blue rings of his irises. Keith doesn’t recall the last time he felt so relaxed. His movements are synced with Lance’s, their bodies inching closer – closer – closer.

Keith leans in just centimeters from touching lips. He’s hesitating and maybe Lance can tell. His hands crawl under the raventte's shirt to rest on a slim waist. His palms are a little clammy, a little unsure. He’s nervous too. But he pulls close anyway squeezing and rubbing his thumbs over pale hipbones. It tugs a quiet gasp from Keith’s chapped lips, his hands grabbing onto lean biceps.

This is really about to happen again isn’t it? He feels like he can’t breathe but in a good way, in an excited kind of way because despite arguing with himself over it, this is what he wants. God, this is exactly what he wants. To feel those hands over his chest and down his legs, to hear him gasp and groan and say his name – that’s what Keith wants, what he craves.

He takes a steadying intake of air before lifting his head, nose brushing against Lance’s cheek. All he can hear is the sound of his own heart drumming in his ears. His lips are taken captive, teeth pulling at his lip, mouths sliding together. It’s sweet and gentle and feels like it actually means something. But he’s gonna lock that thought away in favour of concentrating on the way Lance is backing him up into the bed. He wraps his arms around his neck to keep their lips in contact as they fall.

Their foreheads press together, the air around them already heavy with that raw desire he so desperately craved tonight. He’s pushed into the mattress their legs getting tangled. This is the magnetic attraction he felt before, something he hasn’t felt in years. When he saw Lance that day in the convenience store, he should have known then that he was in trouble. He should have known he’d be too weak to resist these lips, too weak not to give in and cradle Lance’s face in his hands, feeling his heart thrum in his neck. 

* * *

 _Smooth brown skin, tousled hair, the sound of his name dripping off rose coloured lips_ – it’s just a few things Keith has added to his list of things he likes. He nuzzles into Lance’s neck tracing circles into his back. It’s been a long time since he’s done the whole ‘morning after sex cuddles’. He honestly forgot how nice it was to just relax and sleep in, actually appreciate the arms lazily draped around his naked torso – to just bask in the after glow.

A smile finds its way to his lips before he can stop it. It would be really great to be in a relationship like this again. Something safe and honest. Something _real_.

He slinks out of Lance’s hold sitting up in the bed. The sun is barely high enough to let its soft morning light seep in through the windows. The man next to him groans into his pillow rolling onto his stomach and bringing his arms up to hug the cushion effectively hiding his face. Okay, that is down right criminal. No one should be that cute.

As carefully as possible he crawls off the mattress finding his boxers and sweatshirt. It’s a little chilly but nothing a good cup of coffee can’t solve. He makes his way around the bed tying half of his hair up when he catches his reflection in the mirror. Lance’s camera sits on the dresser in front of him and he knows he shouldn’t, knows he’s not supposed to touch others things but…

It’s a little heavier than he thought. He lifts the viewfinder to his face shutting one eye to focus the image in the tiny window. The room spins as he turns inspecting everything he sees when a sleeping Lance enters his vision. Interesting. He takes a few steps closer crouching to get a better angle of his innocent face. The shutter goes off and Lance doesn’t even flinch. Keith stands and returns the camera to its home on the polished wood. He stands there for a while just watching and waiting as the photo slowly appears.

The lump in his throat is thick and hard to swallow. Keith has never been the artsy type, never really good at taking photos, he’d even admit his selfie game is sub par. But this right here, (and maybe it’s because it’s of Lance) this could be hung in the Metropolitan. It makes him teary-eyed just staring at it, the kind of teary-eyed that makes his chest squeeze tight and his heart ache. He slides the Polaroid into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Lance doesn’t have to know.

Keith tiptoes out of the bedroom trying his damnest not to step on any old floorboards that might creak. Thankfully it seems he makes it downstairs without waking anyone. But he nearly jumps out of his own skin as he enters the kitchen and finds he is absolutely not the only person awake right now. One of Lance’s housemates is standing at the counter pouring himself coffee. _Fuck, what the hell was his name? Daniel?_ He’s the one Keith very briefly met yesterday. His blonde hair is sticking up all over the place, red lines stretched over his shoulder and cheek from sleeping funny. Keith probably should have put some pants on before coming down here.

“Sorry I didn’t think anyone would be up.” He says as he attempts to hide his underwear by pulling his hoodie down around his thighs. Daniel eyes him up and down and blows an amused huff out his nose setting the pot back on the burner.

“It's cool dude, don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse.” He’s not entirely sure what the means but he’ll take it. “You’re Keith right? Can I make you some coffee?”

The offer is unexpected but he accepts it nonetheless. Daniel prepares him a cup and they take a seat at the table. Daniel is actually pretty cool and they chat for a bit until a certain sluggish brunette enters the room with an obnoxiously loud yawn. “What the hell are you two doing up?”

“Getting better acquainted to your _friend_ ,” Daniel raises his hands to make air quotes around the last word with a knowing smirk and holy shit Keith wants to die, “after our brief introduction yesterday. So far I give him an eight out of ten.”

“Only an eight?” Lance crosses his arms over his broad chest leaning back against the doorframe.

“Hey, nobody’s perfect.” He shrugs as he stands setting his mug in the sink and pats Lance square in the chest. He’s whispering something to the brunette so only he can hear and their both smiling.

It’s silent for a few moments; Keith can hear the shower start upstairs. He picks his feet up off the ground pulling his knees to his chest. It’s a little chilly down here versus Lance’s room with the space heater.

“So when did you get up?” The brunette takes a seat next to him leaning on the surface of the table another yawn passing his lips, quieter this time.

“Like six-thirty or something like that.”

Blue eyes blink absently at him before glancing over to the coffee maker the clock reading seven twenty-three. “I thought you weren’t a morning person - what couldn’t sleep?”

“Actually you just assumed that last time. I usually wake up earlier but we didn’t exactly go to bed last night.” Keith says matter-of-factly - proud of himself for finally getting the upper hand on him. He takes a victory swig of his coffee.

“Oh…right,” he laughs softly standing up and stretching his arms over his chest, “well then I’m going back to bed.”

“You’re kidding. What’s the point it’s already like seven-thirty.”

“Hey, you’re the one that pointed out we didn’t actually sleep and I need my beauty rest.” Keith rolls his eyes a little over dramatically.

“Oh and uh…” Lance smiles, grinning more like the cat that got the cream, “that sweatshirt looks good on you.” He exits the room leaving Keith bewildered.

What on Earth is he even going on about? He wore this yesterday how come he didn’t compliment him then? He places the mug down his feet sliding off the edge of the chair so he can better examine the article of clothing. Well that’s funny, he could have sworn his sweatshirt was black not blue…

Then it hits him, the heat rushing to his face. That’s because this isn’t his, it must be Lance’s. It was so dark earlier he didn’t notice the difference. Honestly though, how didn’t he? This hoodie is a little big on him, it’s much softer than his own and it smells just like Lance. These are all things that should have sent up red flags in his head.

He’s getting far too comfortable far too quickly...

Keith winds up spending the rest of the morning cuddling with Lance in bed. _Beauty sleep my ass_ , he thinks as large hands caress his ass and a game of footsies ensues under the covers. It’s such a domestic thing to do its nerve wracking, but he doesn’t dread it.

_Cold feet, soft humming, narrow blue eyes and forehead kisses._

Lance rolls on top of him a playful smile curving his lips. Kisses trail down his neck, his hair pushed to the side and a knee between his legs. Keith sighs in a blissful sort of way, his breath shaky his hands even shakier. His stomach is in knots as a pair of hands explore the expanse of his chest under thick fabric. Lance’s mouth meets his lips slotting together like puzzle pieces, teeth scraping, and tongues licking.

They’re both eager but they draw it out, slow and open. Hips casually rolling into his – confident, completely sure of himself. Lance is no amateur, he’s a fast learner and knows exactly what drives him crazy, knows just how hard to push, just how much to linger to make Keith mewl. He’s utterly humiliated, never in his life has anyone been able to make him sound so pathetic and needy.

But he loves it.

Loves the liberating kisses and those pearly white teeth nipping the soft flesh around his bellybutton. Keith bites his sleeve so as not to be too terribly loud. Courtesy to their hallway neighbours though he’s positive they all heard him last night – whoops. He lifts his rear up off the sheets so Lance can pull his briefs off, his nose presses into Keith’s naval. Soft lips ghost over the length of his erection. His tongue caresses the tip all the while watching as Keith sucks his stomach in gasping.

It’s enough, more than enough, but he still craves more.

He balls Lance’s hoodie in his fists pulling it over his heated cheeks.

This is embarrassing. This is too much.

Keith feels the other shift and feels him hover above his flustered form. The sweatshirt effectively hiding him from total humiliation tugs away from his face and he’s met with butterfly kisses. It’s beyond a foreign gesture for him.

“Is this okay? I know you usually like it hot and fast.” Lance breathes against his ear. Like he even needs to ask. He snakes his hands down Lance’s lean back and pushes past the waistband of his shorts feeling that tight ass of his.

“I like it,” Keith kisses his shoulder tightening his hold just a little, butterflies threatening to choke him out, “k-keep going.”

He feels the smirk pull up wide against the nape of his neck, knows that means he’s lost once again to the brunette's impeccable charms. Lance sits up the comforter sliding off his shoulders as he stretches over him to rummage around in the nightstand. He pulls out a small bottle and a roll of tiny packets proceeding to rip one off. Keith pushes himself up now as well taking the condom from him. “I’ll do it.”

Once Lance is situated it’s back to gentle kisses and forehead touches. Keith has never loved the the feeling of falling more. Sunlight sneaks past the dark curtains illuminating the winter dust dancing through the air. It brushes over Lance’s cheeks lighting up his eyes. Keith can’t fucking breathe, not when all he can see is an angel smiling down on him. An angel that doesn’t quite belong to him, one he absolutely does not deserve.

  
Lance moves back on top of him fitting tight and perfect between his pale legs. Keith’s stomach ties into a burning knot lacing his fingers through soft curling tufts of hair. His mind drifts back to a time in December. He remembers sitting in the kitchen helping his mother clean the dishes and listening to her complain about the lack of snow. There wasn’t even a flurry on Christmas Day like she had hoped and prayed for. She was a firm believer that snow was this grand romantic miracle, that it brought people together. He thought she was crazy, that maybe she had watched too many Lifetime movies - but as he lays here now and arches into Lance’s embrace lightly tossing his head to the side - he can see little white specs start to stick to the window.

  
Keith closes his eyes and focuses on the dip of Lance’s back, the warmth of his tongue on his neck, the way his hips roll in and out like waves brushing up onto shore. Perhaps she was on to something, because this sure does feel special, like this was always meant to be. He was always meant to be right here, in this moment, legs shaking and breathless in the sweetest way possible.

  
But he shouldn’t be here.

  
He shouldn’t be here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it was really short and boring maybe but this is more of a filler chapter. It all picks up from here I promise.


	5. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just come to accept the fact that I suck at updating ( ; - ;  
> I'm not giving up though I'm still trying to get these chapters out as soon as possible!! Thank you so much for sticking around guys I really appreciate it all the kudos and I read all the comments. 
> 
> Quick nsfw warning towards the end.
> 
> Please Enjoy Chapter 5, finally!!

What do you call two guys that officially met for the first time almost two months ago, hang out like the chill bros that they are and casually fuck on the weekends? There’s a name for it, Keith is almost certain.

_Fuckbuddies._

No, that’s a little harsh.

_Friends with benefits?_

Keith scratches out the words on his notebook too distracted in his thoughts to properly pay attention to the lecture going on around him. At least it looks like he’s taking notes. The titles don't seem to fit despite their definitions being true to Keith’s situation. They’ve been off and on like this for the past two weeks, and on few occasions their hookups have been less of a hookup and more… He doesn’t want to say it but – it was loving. Keith remembers the first time it happened, on the first snowfall of winter, the way Lance held his burning cheeks in his sweaty palm smiling down on him. Keith has never been so exhausted after a climax but _holy shit_. All he could do after that was fall back asleep – maybe that had been Lance’s plan all along.

He trucks back to his dorm room finding it empty with a sigh of relief. Keith slides open his desk drawer plucking out the photo he'd taken of Lance and crashes onto his bed. He didn’t name it, not the way Lance named each one of his. There weren’t really any words for it. Instead he doodled a few cookie cutter snowflakes onto the blank space. Keith holds the Polaroid close to his chest staring blankly up at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom.

On nights he doesn’t spend at Lance’s place he lays like this and questions what the fuck he’s even doing. He didn’t mind it at first. He just floated along with the feeling and tried to focus on other things than the quick almost painful palpitations that wracked against his chest. Keith never meant for any of this to happen, for the situation to slip so easily out of his control. But after the second time it happened…

He knows he’s lost this fight in fact he’s lost the whole goddamn war – the battle against Lance McClain and his blindingly sweet smiles.

After about an hour or so attempting to get some homework done Keith’s self-restraint runs its course. He leans over reaching an arm to swipe his phone off his bed. He shoots Lance a quick text without a second thought. When did that become a thing?

**Keith:** **Wanna grab some food?**

He’s actually surprised how fast the reply comes as Lance usually takes awhile to get back to him most days.

 **Lance:**   **Yeah man**

**Lance: Meet me at the library?**

Keith sends back his confirmation and zips on his boots. It’s a frozen tundra outside. Since that first flurry it’s been almost none stop, an apparent storm rolling through. A dreadful three week long fucking snow storm.

The gentle breeze is bitter and nips at his cheeks as he steps outside. The thought of the library has never been more appealing. Lance meets him at the door and yanks him inside furiously rubbing his hands over Keith’s biceps. “Wha – What on earth are you doing?” Keith’s voice vibrates as he’s jostled around.

“Trying to warm you up quick before going back out there!” he’s grinning ear-to-ear grasping hold of Keith’s hands next. He blows hot air onto them before rubbing them as he did the ravenettes arms a few seconds ago. Keith is horribly charmed by it of course his cheeks heating up without the help of Lance’s warm fingers.

“So, what were you thinking?”

“About what?”

“About food.”

“Oh,” Keith is nervous for no reason at all, its not like Lance can read his mind, “something hot, like pizza or there’s that ramen place farther into the city.”

Lance is still holding his hands firmly as he thinks. Keith stares wondering how long he can fight the rising urge to lace their fingers together. “Soup sounds great right now.”

“Soup then?”

“Soup.”

They hold hands the entire walk over to Lance's car. Keith hates how easily it happens, how normal it feels to have that extra weight in his palm, how his heart leaps into his throat when Lance squeezes once, twice without even a second thought.

But hate is a strong word.

The small noodle shop is warmly lit, the gold leaf painted tables sparkling underneath Keith’s large bowl. He’s doubled over on his stool laughing so hard tears begin to swell at the corners of his eyes. Lance can’t help but to laugh along with him at his feeble attempt to properly use his chopsticks.

“Look dude, the tiny pictures on the paper don’t explain jack shit! I need like a full three hour one-on-one course to even try to comprehend this witchcraft.” He slaps the wooden utensils onto the polished tabletop shaking his head.

“I can’t argue that. You need a God damn private tutor.” Keith giggles as he sits up wiping at his tears. “Maybe I can be of some assistance.”

Keith hops down from his chair and moves over next to Lance. With the small raised table they’re sitting at it makes it much easier to coach the brunette. He watches over Lance's shoulder and makes him pick the chopsticks back up. With one hand he adjusts their position in Lance’s long fingers than cups his hand with his. Keith helps him go through the motion with soft words of direction. They scoop some noodles up together and then Keith lets go so Lance can slurp them up.

“Wasn’t so hard was it?’ Keith smirks watching the man chew his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“No but…” the tips of his ears are a little red, stormy blue eyes glance over his shoulder, “I think I need one more practice run.”

Keith eyes the room, its practically empty besides a couple across the way from them chatting up a storm. So he wiggles his toes in his boots and snuggles up close to Lance resting his chin on one of those boney shoulders. Lance’s breath hitches in Keith’s ear. He finds such an odd confidence in flirting with Lance these days. It’s invigorating and it feeds into his impulsive nature. His fingers slide over the brunette’s arm plucking the utensils right out of Lance’s hand. Keith can hear the protest start to pull at those rosy lips, but not before he snatches a fishcake from Lance’s bowl and places it in his open mouth.

With a chaste kiss to his burning cheek Keith absconds back to his seat. “That counts as two lessons so you have to pay for dinner.”

“You are the devil.”

“You’re too kind.”

Lance gets the waitress to take a photo of them in revenge (so he says) but after it develops he doesn’t name it. There’s no witty one liner or cheesy pickup line, just the date. He writes it small on the corner, small and personal like a secret.

Keith doesn’t ask about it.

On the way back they stop at a gas station. He watches Lance pump gas through foggy glass his heart matching the beat to his hand tapping against his thigh. A weird feeling falls over him, something tingly and unfamiliar. It’s soft and settles nicely in his chest, makes his head all fuzzy. It feels good.

Somehow Lance convinces Keith to go to a nearby park despite it being below freezing outside. The lengths he will go to see a cute boy smile. He takes a seat on the hood of Lance’s car refusing to give into his puppy eyes routine when he asks to go swing with him. “You got me out here, the last thing I need is cold air whipping against my face.”

“You’re no fun Keith!” Lance pouts sticking his tongue out in protest. He brushes the snow off his chosen seat and plops down kicking off into the air. Keith pulls their recent Polaroid out of his jacket pocket – the image alone warms his skin. Neither of them could stop from laughing. Lance insisted they take what he called a ‘staged candid’. So per request Keith pretended to feed him some of his sushi. It’s a really cute picture by no surprise but it leaves his heart fluttering and his hands sweaty. Lance really did have a gift for capturing a perfect moment in time. He remembers back a few months ago when Pidge snooped around on him. He obviously has talent and he seems to really enjoy photography, so then why quit art school?

“How come you’re not studying art?” The inquiry leaves his lips before he’s even fully explored the thought in his head. It hangs in the air for a while in almost eerie silence. Lance suddenly doesn’t look his age. He’s still in his swing, tired eyes seemingly not his own stare into his lap. He looks older, wiser, a man who’s lived for hard earned happiness, fake or otherwise.

“It didn’t work out. Just not my scene I guess.”

Keith is hesitant in asking but this is maybe the first time Lance has ever really showed signs of anything besides joy. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… “ Even from the four yard distance Keith sits apart from Lance he can still see the ice melt from his eyes – its lonely. “I didn’t really belong there. My parents thought I would amount to something great and I believed in that vision of theirs. But it was like trying to stand out among stars. My work is mediocre at best and it was so painfully obvious I wasn’t fitting into my parent’s ideals that I just… I gave up.”

His words are rehearsed like a chorus to a song he’s played over and over again in his head. A song played so often you begin to wish radio didn’t exist. It’s heartbreaking. Has Lance been depressed this whole time? He sure fooled Keith. He wears his mask well, too well.

“You’re wrong.” Keith lifts himself off the hood making his way over to hold a sad boys face in his hands. “You’re so much better than that Lance. You _will_ do great things because you’re _doing_ great things now. I don’t know a lot about art but I’m sure not every successful artist went to art school. I don’t think art is something you can really teach anyway.”

It sounds dumb coming out but he just hopes his words come across alright and they must because Lance nearly kills them pulling Keith into a hug, his face snug in his stomach. It’s disgustingly adorable. Keith pats the beanie snug around Lance’s head and drops into his lap. The momentum causes them to swing back – Lance wraps his arms tight around his waist – he likes it. He likes it a lot actually. Their position is a little awkward but it works just fine as Keith snakes his arms around Lance’s neck closing the space between them.

Chapped lips meet in a sweet peck that easily grows heated, deeper, and a little sloppy even. He craves the warmth, craves the taste of Lance’s tongue against his own. It's silly and romantic, it's pure and innocent. The tips of his fingers tingle in anticipation so he pulls himself closer, as if he isn’t close enough already. He’s happy, so damn happy he can’t stop himself from smiling.

“What’s so funny?” Lance laughs through his nose breathless against Keith’s lips.

“Nothing is, I just…” he pulls away his voice tailing off in the cold air, smile small but ever present, “do you want to stay over at my dorm tonight?”

It’s not something he’s ever offered before and not something Lance has ever dared questioned so maybe Lance’s surprise was to be more expected. “Wha – yeah okay, sure. Don’t you have a roommate though?"

“He’s pretty chill, I think you guys might get along actually.”

* * *

“So let me get this straight…” Keith stands between his roommate and the man he’s been fucking for the past month or so impossibly perplexed. His brow is furrowed so deep a crease forms onto his forehead. “You guys know each other?”

“Oh man! Yeah we go way back, like first grade I think right?” Hunk grins wildly at Lance eyes bright and a delighted chime in his voice.

“No way dude, I hounded you into being my friend first day of kindergarten!”

“That can’t be right because I wasn’t there for the first day. I started like a month late cause I had just moved to the U.S.”

Lance shrugs with a crooked grin, “My life didn’t even begin until you.”

They laugh and push each other around as good friends would, Keith is still lost though. “So then how come I’ve never seen you guys together?”

“We hang all the time! Hunk’s just been too busy with classes and his senior project to pay me any attention.” Hunk rolls his eyes but confirms the statement with a solid nod of his head. “The three of us could all totally hangout together now, this is awesome!”

“Yeah I guess we could.”

“Oh Keith, we could invite Pidge too and do team battles in Mario Kart!”

“Who’s Pidge?”

“Keith’s best friend”

“The really short kid with the hipster glasses?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” Keith is almost positive they have never met before.

“I see you guys together in the dining hall all the time.”

“Oh.” Keith sits back for a moment imagining Lance walking into the cafeteria eyes scouting his pale face out amongst a noisy crowd. A warm feeling envelopes him at the thought.

Somehow Lance finds Hunk’s stash of old board games and demands they play a round of Monopoly. To which Hunk explains, “there’s no such thing as a _round_ of Monopoly,” accompanied by Keith getting up to grab them sodas and the bottle of Tequila from their mini fridge. It was going to be a long night, might as well make the best of it, right?

Right. They actually have a blast playing this stupid game. None of them are even drunk – a little buzzed if anything. And when midnight rolls around Hunk lets out a yawn that the other men pick up on reluctantly. They are no where close to finishing the game but Hunk calls it quits and heads to his room ready to crash. Honestly Keith is right there with him, so Lance helps him haphazardly tidy up the living area. He starts for his room but notices a lack of presence behind him.

“Lance, are you coming?” His voice comes out so quiet the words thick in his throat. He’d wonder if the brunette even heard him if it wasn’t for the sudden eye contact at the call of his name.

“What?”

“Are- Are you coming to bed?” Keith nervously points back to his door heart still in his chest. _Why is he so hesitant?_

“You sure? I can just crash on the couch.” Lance’s voice is a little shaky, seemingly unsure of him self or the situation perhaps.

“I mean my bed isn’t as big as yours is, it’s pretty small actually but I think we’ll be fine.” It’s weird how suddenly their roles have switched right? He’s positive there’s a split second of hesitation before Lance finally agrees and joins him in his bedroom.

Posters litter the walls including a star map pinned to the ceiling above his bed, but other than that the space is spotless give or take a stack or two of heavy text books beside his desk. Okay and the cork board on the wall painted in sticky notes and papers, maybe a photo or two of him and his brother but otherwise very clean! And speaking of said brother, “who’s this hunky guy?”

“Oh, that’s just my older brother Takashi.”

“Really…” Lance trails off studying the pictures intensely. Keith knows all too well what’s rattling around in his brain right now.

“I’m adopted.” Lance's head snaps to attention eyes wide with panic.

“I didn’t mean to seem – shit Keith I-“

“Lance,” he rests a steady hand on his shoulder, “relax, it’s okay. It’s kind of obvious we’re not blood related.”

“Not _that_ obvious but I mean, you have such a white boy name and then he’s all… Japanese and stuff.” His hands move about awkwardly in the air as he rambles and then drops his shoulders rubbing at his face. “Wow I sound like an asshole."

Honest to God Keith just can’t help but laugh and Lance looks mortified. The ravenette falls to his bed pushing his hair back with a large smile pressing into his features. “It’s nice to see you lose your cool like this."

“I’m glad you think it’s funny I guess.” He offers a smile back and scratches the bridge of his nose. There’s a moment of silence between them, something soft and forgiving – just two guys in a dorm room taking a second to appreciate the others existence.

“We should get to bed.” Keith stands and shimmies out of his pants tossing them to the floor by his closet his shirt and socks following suit. He notices Lance still standing there as if waiting for permission to strip down. So Keith gives him a hand. The blush that shoots over his cheeks is crimson and positively adorable. Was this so different from how they did things at Lance’s place? He throws the shirt aside to work on the man’s jeans.

The impulse is sudden, like the snap of someone’s fingers. Keith crouches to the floor his lips brushing against Lance’s stomach and trailing a kiss or two down his naval. The dark brown hair of his happy trail tickles his chin, his cheek – _these pants need to go_. Lance seems to understand exactly what Keith is feeling as he pushes his hands through long black locks, fingers a little shaky. He hears his breath hitch when he slides his hands up underneath the legs of the satin blue boxers he’s wearing. Lance’s thighs are soft and well toned, the tiny hairs barely noticeable.

It never seems to take much to turn Lance on – it’s kind of endearing actually. Keith chuckles at the thought and places a hard kiss against the bulge steadily coming to life in the brunette’s shorts. He’s always been very fast paced and reckless so he’s quick to pull the silky fabric down and run his tongue along Lance’s shaft.

“Shit,” Lance breathes out gripping the hair tangled in his fingers, not hard enough to cause any pain, but just enough to encourage Keith on.

Keith hums with the tug easing into position as he takes his dick in his mouth. It’s been a while since he’s offered such a service but that doesn’t mean he’s lost the skill. He’s slow to start, testing the waters, squeezes Lance’s thighs then picks the pace up twisting his tongue and curling his hands over a tight ass. Its hot and stimulating and it feels like electricity pulsing through his chest.

Lance tenses with a soft groan as he’s sucked off. His free hand catches the back of Keith’s desk chair causing him to take a step back in an awkward trip. Keith pulls back wiping at his mouth and tosses a Lance a look, an eyebrow arched high in question. “S-Sorry dude.”

He rolls his eyes tucking hair behind his ear and swallowing Lance whole again. His hips buck into his mouth a little rough but it’s quickly met with another apology and hands in his hair. Keith hums softly to let him know it’s all good but sucks him hard in return hallowing out his cheeks. It’s well reciprocated.

“Fuck, Keith I’m close!” Lance half shouts half whispers in an attempt to stay low so Hunk doesn’t hear though to be honest he’s probably out cold by now. There was a party a few rooms down last week and Hunk the lucky bastard had no issues sleeping soundly through the whole damn thing. Keith refocuses on the task at hand and pumps the base of Lance’s dick in time with his mouth. A minute or two of this and the brunette is down for the count coming hot into the back of Keith’s throat. He works him through his orgasm.

Keith grabs a dirty t-shirt from his hamper and wipes them both off, Lance is more than grateful. “Jesus Christ, Keith. I knew you were talented but damn.”

“Shut up,” he says it with a playful tone maybe even gracing Lance with a quick grin before he stands. Lance kicks out of his jeans and follows the ravenette into bed. They settle in side-to-side, the only light coming from Keith’s computer charger. It’s quiet for a while – all he can hear is soft breathing and his own heart beating against his ribcage.

“Keith, you still awake?” Lance’s voice almost echoes in the emptiness of the room.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, cool, me too.”

It’s quiet again. Keith’s mind is overflowing.

“Lance…”

There’s a soft hum in response.

“Have-… Have you ever been in love?” He’s met with silence but he imagines Lance is staring at him as he can feel his breath hot against his ear now. Keith meets invisible eyes and a strong silhouette that blossoms from the darkness.

“I’ve dated a few people I think I thought I was in love with.”

“What does that mean?”

The presence shifts, causing Keith to dip into the bed a little more than he’d like. Lance is staring down at him from his new propped up position.

“Means I was a horny teenager.”

“And you aren’t now?”

“Very funny.”

There’s obviously something more to this, something deep in Lance’s heart he’d prefer to keep locked up. It’s sad and painful – he’s reminded of Lance’s short breakdown earlier and wonders how he missed it before, how was he so blind to the obvious hurt and mistrust in those ocean eyes?

What matters most is that he knows now, and maybe with this he can be closer to him, because that’s what he wants. He wants to be closer to Lance to learn more and do more. The thought of anyone else getting that chance and taking advantage of it morphs a red-hot rage bursting like a gunshot in his chest. It’s suffocating.

Keith finds his hand and laces their fingers together squeezing tight. “Goodnight, Lance.”

“Night, Keith.”

* * *

Two hours tick by in grueling slow motion. Time feels like an illusion – sleepy neck kisses and tangled legs, big spoon, little spoon, a hand on his exposed hip. It should be comforting. It should melt his bones and whisk his mind to far off places. But instead Keith is stuck here on this mental plane of reality.

His senses are on fire, his brain overflowing with the out of place stimuli. This isn’t the first time he’s cuddled with Lance, it’s not even the first time they’ve slept in the same bed together – it’s the way they got here. This is the first time Keith has shared a bed with him and not had sex beforehand. Sure he blew him right before but it’s not the same. It didn’t happen in this bed. There’s no stickiness of dried sweat coating his skin, no familiar scent of heated sex fogging the air.

There’s no cool down, no fuzziness in his head, just him and Lance lying in bed together holding each other close because they can. Because they want to – Keith wants to. He can’t sleep because he’s fully aware why he’s so afraid of Lance, why he keeps pushing back with every step forward they take. He knows, and it scares the life out of him. He’s terrified to fall asleep and wake up to an empty bed, a cold bed. He’s terrified to wake up and find this never happened. Maybe Lance was just using him all along.

This is torturous – he can’t sleep like this. Keith takes a deep breath and crawls out of Lance’s gentle hold on him slipping out of bed. He waits a second or two but there’s no protest from the man so he rummages around his room pulling on a pair of sweatpants. He grabs his phone and leaves the room. It’s ten minutes to two but Shiro is usually up now anyway. He doesn’t sleep like he used to.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“If you really cared you wouldn’t have picked up.”

There’s a soft sigh from the other end of the line, “That’s not true. Anyway what’s up? It’s been awhile since you’ve called.”

“I um, I couldn’t sleep I guess.”

“Do you ever actually sleep though?”

“Shut up.”

A quiet chuckle, “Seriously Keith, what’s wrong?”

It takes him a moment and a mental pep talk to actually say anything but he does. He tells Shiro about Lance, beginning to end. He tells him how they met, about that first night, about the cute little pictures he takes and his radiant smile, his resonant voice. He tells him about Lance’s family, tells him about how he’s actually Hunk’s childhood friend and how weird it was they hadn’t met sooner. It’s a whirlwind of a story but he gets it all in, every detail. By the end of it he feels breathless and hot, his hands are shaking like he had actually just relived the past three months in that thirty minutes. It’s a really good feeling.

“You seem really happy.” There’s a smile in Shiro’s voice.

“I am happy.”

“Then why do you still sound so scared?”

It takes Keith a second, he lets it sink in, remembers how suffocated he felt earlier in bed and covers his face with his hand voice cracking into the receiver, “because I don’t want to lose him.”

He’s fallen in love again and there’s nowhere for him to run, he’s in too deep.

He’s in love with Lance McClain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up everyone. 
> 
>  
> 
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	6. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in months I'm sorry guys! This chapter is kind of short and honestly I'm not that happy with it but oh well, here it is!
> 
> So Shiro has ptsd and not that well see that in this chapter but it is mentioned. I have ptsd so I understand the basics of it but ptsd from war is quiet different and the symptoms aren't the same. So I did quite a bit of research and I hope in the following chapters I'm able to render it well. That being said! If you have any knowledge on this and see I wrote something wrong please tell me! I want to do this right so suggestions are always welcomed! 
> 
> Thank you for being so patient with me everyone and I hope you enjoy - only two more chapters!!

Warmth envelopes Keith when he wakes. He almost forgets that he invited Lance over last night, but the hot breath and sharp nose nuzzled into the nape of his neck is a clear reminder that the man is there. He’s been here before, in this euphoric kind of morning light. It makes Keith smile as he scoots back into the embrace. The butterflies that erupt in his chest tickle his throat and have him turning his head to meet chapped lips and morning breath. Lance hums into the kiss the sensation making Keith’s toes curl. His bangs are brushed out of his eyes and he’s faced with dark irises.

“You’re up early,” Keith whispers.

“Actually you’re up _late_.”

Keith raises a confused brow at him only to catch a glimpse of his alarm clock that reads ten forty-three in the morning. His eyes refocus on the tan face next to him rolling onto his side as to not strain his neck any more. “Holy shit…”

“I was pretty surprised myself.” Lance chuckles softly sitting up, “can I shower here?”

“Yeah, you can just use my stuff.”

“Cool,” Lance stretches with a huge yawn his arms high over his head. Keith stretches as well arching his back and resting his head in his hand. Lance doesn’t moved until he’s glancing at him with a wicked smirk pulling at his devilish lips.

 _That can’t be good._ “What are you thinking?”

“Care to join me?” As appealing as it sounds, and _wow_ does it ever, Keith can’t imagine what would happen if his RA noticed two pairs of feet in a shower stall.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass this time.”

Lance’s shoulders slump with a sigh. Keith notices it comes off rather disappointed. The boy smiles anyway and shakes his head sliding out of bed. He stands stretching the muscles in his back pulling under his copper skin. Keith is dazed for a split of a second. Before he knows it he's sitting up and crawling over to the edge of the mattress reaching out for Lance’s hand. “Wait.”

The man turns with a hum eyes half lidded. Keith stands on his knees running his hands over the smooth exterior of Lance’s broad chest, over his collarbones and holding his jaw to connect their lips. They don’t kiss that often, not as much as Keith thinks about kissing. Hands settle on his hips, solid and hot against his skin – he circles his arms around Lance’s neck pulling closer with open mouthed kisses. They break for air too soon a chuckle lost between them, something a little unsettling. Keith meets his eyes but they’re not looking back at him. Lance isn’t looking at him.

“Lance?” A coldness tickles the sides of his ribs twisting in his stomach. He’s been acting strange since yesterday, since their talk at the park. “Hey…” Keith’s thumb glides along his cheekbone concern adding butter to his voice, “what’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Lance greets him with a smile rubbing the pads of his thumbs into Keith’s hips, an obvious attempt to ease his mind. Keith doesn’t feel it, doesn’t feel _okay_ about this. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He pulls his arms back sliding his hands down Lance’s pectorals - his heart is racing. It’s not nothing.

_It’s not nothing._

But he lets it go.

Lance showers, joins Keith and Hunk for breakfast at the dinning hall, and then Lance goes home claiming he has some homework to get done. It’s probably true, there’s really no reason Keith should doubt it but…he doesn’t buy it. He’s been off all morning and Keith can’t help the sinking feeling that it has something to do with him.

“You okay?” Hunk brings his attention back pointing at Keith’s food with his fork. “You’ve barely eaten your breakfast.”

Keith stares down at the plate in front of him where he’d been subconsciously playing with his omelet and rice. The anxiety in his belly curdling all appetite he had earlier. “I’m just not as hungry as I thought I guess, you want it?”

His roommate eyes him from across the table an eyebrow raised in concern, “you sure buddy?”

“Yeah,” Keith pushes his plate over and brings his coffee close to his chest.

“You know,” Hunk begins sliding Keith’s plate next to his, “you don’t hide your feelings very well.”

“What?”

“You’re all moody and upset, quiet. I mean you’re not even eating so you must be depressed about _something_ – and yet here you are trying to tell me you’re fine.”

“I am fine.”

Hunk gives him this hard stare, one Keith is almost certain he developed just for Keith. It breaks him down in stages, like knocking down one wall after the other, until there’s nothing left and he’s open to the world. Keith knows he can’t hide anything from his roommate. They haven’t been friends that long but it feels like they’ve known each other for the past ten years.

“Fine,” a victorious smirk etches onto Hunks dark features, “its about Lance.”

That smirk vanishes quicker than Hunk had time to swallow the rice in his mouth.

“You like him don’t you.” Hunk says it like he’s known all along – before Keith even knew. But there’s also this hint of caution behind his words that has Keith hunching his shoulders in an attempt to hold himself without actually doing so.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Is there…something about him I should know about?”

Hunk looks confused for a moment until the meaning to Keith’s inquiry sets in. He places his silverware down on the table and waves the notion off with his hands. “No, no, no, that’s not it at all. Lance is just…” he pauses to find the right words, “he’s delicate you know? He’s been hurt a lot and pursuing him might be harder than you think.”

“It feels more like he’s been pursuing me up until late. I mean we’ve even slept together on numerous occasions.”

“Yeah…” Hunk’s eyes look apologetic – sympathetic, “He uh, he does that.”

At Hunk’s confession Keith feels his breath catch in his throat before it can even reach his lungs. He’s been exclusively sleeping with Lance since January. But by the sounds of it, that didn’t really mean anything. Lance could very well be playing him, just looking for a good time and Keith never says no to him. He’s at Lance’s mercy – his every beck and call. His chest tightens up at the thought and grinds his lip through his teeth.

"Look, don't read too much into it okay? It's probably nothing and he'll co-" Keith cuts him off as he stands his chair screaming in protest as it’s pushed back. He’s confused and hurt and angry. He just…he just needs – “Sorry Hunk, I just need to be alone for a bit.”

He leaves without another word.

The gym in town is close enough to walk to, closer if your running, so Keith gets there in no time flat. The facility is near empty today just the way Keith likes it. Walking over to the punching bags he puts his phone on silent plugging in his ear buds. He’s always had issues with his anger. Before he was adopted into the Shirogane family he lashed out a lot, got in fights with the other kids at the orphanage and didn’t talk much. Baseball helped with that. Running laps around the field, getting lost in his head in the batting cage, the rush he got from pitching, it helped a lot even if he didn’t actually enjoy playing all that much. He wasn’t a very good team player as it was.

Beating off his emotions was the only way he knew how to control them. In high school after a particularly bad fight with some asshole football player that got him suspended, Takashi started taking him to the gym with him. Every night after work he’d pull Keith out of bed and they’d run to the gym four miles from their house. He taught Keith how to use the punching bags, how to properly wrap his hands. Keith remembers the first time and how Takashi stood there holding the bag in place and said, “hit it as hard as you can.”

When he couldn’t punch anymore, when he was too tired to go any longer, Takashi would walk them to the gas station to grab some sodas and they would sit on the curb and watch the cars go by. He’d pat Keith on the back and make him talk about it – talk about his frustrations and his struggles.

Right now he was frustrated with Lance. What game was he playing at? How could he worm his way in and make him feel so good and safe and utterly helpless under his touch and then turn a cold shoulder? You can’t fuck a guy so sweetly for months and then not talk to him – _or pull away from a kiss._

He hits the bag so hard he feels it in his wrist. A dull pain makes its presence known on the next hit. Keith catches the bag and rests his head against its cool vinyl his hair sticking to his temples.

Right now…he’s frustrated with himself for letting his heart and his desires jump ahead of him. He never should have chased after Lance that day. He should have never let him talk him into another drink. Keith should have never let himself get swept away in those starry eyes and that inviting smile. He shouldn't have kept all those stupid photos.

Right now he is struggling with the fact he fell in love with a man he doesn’t really know after months of telling himself, “this won’t happen again.” But it did happen and he feels like such a fool. He let his guard down, let his walls fall for a stranger and now he’s hurt – again. No one is at fault but himself. He tried to hold onto something that wasn’t even real.

When Keith gets back to his dorm there’s a sticky note on his laptop reading:

_Mini fridge – gotta make sure you eat well after a good workout!_

_~ Hunk_

There’s a container of Chinese food in the mini fridge – boneless spare ribs and white rice. Hunk even left him an egg roll. Keith can be a really shitty friend but Hunk has always let it slide and had his back. He may tease him about it later but he’s never cross with him. Keith will have to make up for it somehow, do his laundry for him maybe. Keith takes it back to his room, doesn’t even bother taking it to the kitchen to heat up. He’s starving. With his laptop opened up to Netflix he kicks back in his chair and watches Stranger Things with his cold Chinese.

* * *

Hunk rattles the door open and peeks into Keith’s room backpack slung over one broad shoulder. “You skipped your classes didn’t you.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re that torn up about it?”

“Yes.”

Hunk disappears into his own room to throw his stuff down then drags his chair over to sit with him and watch the rest of his show with him. If for nothing else than to give him some company.

Around four twenty-three the next morning Keith powers down his laptop after finishing a midterm and collapses onto his bed. He’s tired as staying up all night will do, but not tired enough to sleep. For a moment he thinks about Lance. Thinks about him being there laying on top of Keith with his head rested on Keith’s chest. He thinks about how he would card his fingers through his short hair and maybe thoughtlessly kiss the top of his scalp. Keith’s teeth clench and his eyes squeeze shut. God it all fucking hurts _so much_ – the stab of utter longing. He wants to see him right now.

Keith slides his phone out of his pocket to pull up snapchat. He takes a picture of the shadows on his ceiling from the trees outside and types a quick – _I need a distraction –_ and posts it to his story. He gets an unexpected response almost immediately.

**Lance: meet me in the parking lot by admin**

**Keith: dude its 4am**

His heart is racing watching Lance’s stupid bitmoji stare at him. Who even thought that was a good idea? It’s weird and obnoxious. Honest to God it actually freaks him out a little.

**Lance: are you coming or not**

Keith takes a deep breath. He’s confused since earlier it seemed like the guy wanted nothing to do with him but maybe he was wrong. Maybe he overacted before and maybe this would turn out okay.

**Keith: be there is 5**

 

Lance kills the engine staring out through the windshield as he pockets his keys. Keith’s not entirely sure where in the sweet fuck they are but he’s almost positive this is where people die in those cheesy teen horror films Pidge is so into. “Lance, where are we?”

“You said you wanted a distraction.”

Keith peeks out the passenger side window at the tree line and the cliff beyond with the sun just barely peeking out from the mountainside – the city before it calmer than he remembers. “Come on,” Lance pats his thigh and heaves himself out of his Volvo Keith following suit just a second after. The brunette pops the trunk and pulls out a six pack of beer setting it a top of the car and handing a bottle to Keith. They snap the caps off and set them aside – each taking a swig of the warm alcohol. It’s awfully bitter and stings going down but it’s good. He welcomes the soft burn with vigor, it’s exactly what he needs right now.

He feels good about this – good about Lance. Surely he just needed some space before and everything was back to normal now. They drink until the suns rays are skimming over the cityscape, its vibrant blood orange colour casting a golden shade past the trees where they sit against the car. Lance has never looked more beautiful. The glittering light highlighting his cheeks and contrasting against his blue eyes chokes him back. His heart thrums in his chest his ears flaming – from the emotions crashing over him or the beer he’s not certain. And if anything was a distraction today it was Lance and his smile, his laugh – the way it bounced off the trees bare branches. He’s had Keith’s full undying attention since day one. He may have initially casted the line but Lance was the one that had _him_ hooked. There was no escaping now. Hook, line and sinker.

Keith sighs laying his head on Lance’s shoulder rubbing his red nose into the heat of Lance’s neck. He feels Lance lean his head on top of his a hand reaching around his waist. His eyes flutter close breathing in the brunette’s intoxicating scent. There’s some shuffling and he groans in protest kissing Lance’s neck as the man settles in again. A minute later there’s the familiar sound of a camera. Keith pics his head up pinning Lance with a deadpan stare. “What are you doing?”

“Give it a sec, you’re gonna love this one.”

Keith rolls his eyes allowing Lance to pull him back in to cuddle. They ignore the photo while it develops in favour of watching the sunrise their breathing in sync. The city lights dim down as the sun lifts up into the sky. Fingers press on his waist tracing unfamiliar patters over the plains of his jacket. Keith thumbs the rim of his third bottle his mind buzzing.

He loves this.

He loves being here watching the last few stars fade and the clouds paint waves of colours of the February sky. He loves the heat in his belly and the fullness in his chest. He loves the way Lance leans into him taking deep breathes in through his nose buried into his unruly hair. He loves the way he squeezes tight and pulls away just in time to catch Keith’s eyes. He loves the way his jaw goes slack, his eyes turning soft and lustful like he feels the same way Keith does. Lost for words and heart clenching tight.

They lean in at the same time – Keith caresses the side of Lance’s long face searching for something in the storm of his eyes just before they blink close and their lips meet. Its innocent – just the press of chapped lips for a fraction of a moment. Noses brush against the other nuzzling into cheeks and lips briefly meeting once more. Its like electricity on Keith’s teeth, it tickles his throat and before he knows it their both giggling. It’s a burst of happiness he’s never felt before – from his toes to his fingertips. It dances on the tip of his tongue in words he’s kept locked away. Lance had the key.

“Lance…I think that I…” the words hang in the air with uncertainty. Cold hands lace into his hair and gentle, encouraging eyes smile back at him. There’s a solid few seconds of hesitation where Keith bites his tongue wondering if he was actually ready for this, ready to jump and see if Lance would catch him – if he would fall with him. He grips the front of the man’s jacket for good measure. “Lance I lo-“

The loud chirp of his phone ringing cuts through his almost confession and cripples the moment all together. He blinks a few times stunned and heart racing he almost doesn’t have a mind to prompt him to dig said phone out. His eyes narrow at the blinding florescent light that screams in his face. The contact name shines in bold white characters: _Mom_.

“S-Sorry, I gotta take this.” Lance simply nods with a squeeze to his shoulder before letting him go. Keith stands and takes a few steps away from the car. He takes a moment to regain his composure before swiping his thumb over the screen and bringing the device to his ear. “Mom?”

“Oh Keith…” he voice is strained like she had Strep Throat or had recently been crying. He swallows hard glancing over his shoulder at Lance before speaking again.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Takashi. He um…he…”

His heart is racing again for a whole other reason now. He grips the phone and takes a deep breath trying not to let his mind wander and stay calm.

“He had another episode. Hurt himself p-pretty badly.” Her voice breaks as she attempts to hold back a cry. Keith can’t feel his hands. “He was at therapy when I got the call.” She’s really trying hard not to break down into sobs.

“His trainer – sh-she said he just…he was fine the whole session b-ut afterwards he just had this distant look an-and h-he…” Keith clenches his teeth and his knees shake. The world around him spins and he grips the tree beside him.

“Mom stop. I get the picture.” He’s shaking and he can’t bear to listen. “Where is he. Where are you.” He’s demanding – doesn’t mean to be rude but Jesus-fucking-Christ. He’ll worry about apologizing later.

“He’s in the hospital. I-I’m in the lobby. I wanted to call you sooner but I-“

“Mom.” It’s quiet. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“I love you.”

His head butts the tree as a hot tear rolls off the bridge of his nose, “I love you too.”

Keith hangs up his arm slapping against his side and the phone dropping against the frozen ground. Any strength he had is quickly drained from his body, he’s not sure that without the tree here he’d even be capable of standing. This was by no means the first time this has happened. After he was honourably discharged from the military episodes like this happened almost daily. He lost his fucking arm, but more terrifying than that was the loss of his sanity. It had been a whole year and a half since his brother has been home. He was a fool to think that a few months with intensive therapy and love from his family would be enough to cure him. Three whole months accident free, it was a miracle. Shiro had finally started to relax and let loose – he even started laughing again. All that progress seems lost now.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice barely breaks through the whirlwind of mania clouding his mind.

“It’s my brother. I need to go home.”

It’s silent – so fucking quiet he swears he can hear the train from across town.

“Then let’s go.”


End file.
